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Pears' Soap is good for boys and everyone— It 
removes the dirt, but not the cuticle— Pears 
keeps the skin soft and prevents the roughness 
often caused by wind and weather— constant 
use proves it " Matchless for the complexion " 



"All rights si cured" 

OH ALL SCENTED SOAPS PEAKS' OTTO OE ROSE IS THE BEST 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE — ADVERTISING SECTION. 






Victor-Victrola IV, $15 

Oak 



Victor-Victrola VIII, $40 

Mahogany or oak 



Will there be a Victrola in 
your home this Christmas? 

You can search the whole world over and not 

find another gift that will bring- so much pleasure 

to every member of the family. 

Any Victor dealer in any city in the world will gladly 
play any music you wish to hear and demonstrate to you 
the wonderful Victor-Victrola. 

$15 $25 $ 40 $ 50 $ 75 $ 100 $ 150 $ 200 

Victor Talking Machine Co. 
Camden, N. J., U. S. A. 

Berliner Gramophone Co., Montreal, 
Canadian Distributors 

Always use Victor Machines 
with Victor Records and 
Victor Needles — the combina- 
tion. There is no other way 
to' get the unequaled Victor 
tone. 





Victor-Victrola X, $75 

Mahogany or oak 



RS V01C1 



New Victor Records 
demonstrated at all dealers 
on the 28th of each month 




Victor-Victrola XVI, $200 

Mahogany or quartered oak 



In answering this advertisement it is desirable that you mention Thi All-Stobt Magazinb. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 



W Mosfly Sniffles 

"Life," says O. Henry, "is made up of sobs, sniffles and smiles — mostly sniffles." 



"yOU remember that story in Texas — where he tells — 
* "Santa was lyin' in bed pretty sick." "I've heard 



potatoes and onions." "They're always toRcther in 
life." says she soft-like. "They ro well together." I 



you ridin' across the grass for hours. ^Vebb." she sa\s. says, "in a stew." "I mean hearts and crosses." says 
"You saw the sign?" she whispers. "The minute I Santa. "Our sign — to love and to suffer — that's what 
hit camp." says I. " 'Twas marked on the bag of they mean. ' 



The Balzac of 
the United States 



O. Henry 



The Dickens 
of America 



It is work like this that has caused the world to place O. Henry first in American letters — a classic 
already — peer of Dickens and Balzac, Hugo and Maupassant, Kipling and Thackeray. Before it is 
too late, send the coupon without money for O. Henry's 274 short stories and his long novel. Send 
the coupon for 179 stories and the long novel by Kipling free. 



I Ml 



O.ttenry 



O.rleuiy 




Kipling 



Kipling 




O.Henry 



7- co*JfcV* • 



O.Henry 



O.Henry 



Klpllntf KIpIIn g 





O.Henry 



OJJemy 



\ $ 1 25 Original Price The American World Meets in " 0. Henry's " 

\ 0. Henry-Prince of Entertainers -Master of the Pa g es and Gets to Know Itseif Better 

A _ Unexpected Ending— Bohemian byinstinct-Nomad He tells why himself in simple fashion. "They 

by nature American to the linger tips— it is no say I know New York well. Just change 23rd Street 
Review % wonder that the first edition of his work sold for in one of my New York stories to Main Street, rub 
of ^ $125 a set. It is no wonder that scholars and out the Flatiron Building, and put in the Town Hall, 
Reviews % plain people and foreign nations and all then the story will tit just as truly elsewhere So long 
SOlninjPlace. America call him great — it is no wonder as a story is true to life, the mere change of local color 
New York that press of national demand has forced will set it in the East, West, South or North The 

H'.".r..va'i i-imr- us '° ex t en( l this offer once more — when characters in the 'Arabian Nights' parade up and down 
intended to close it last month. Broadway at midday, or on Main Street in anv town." 

O. Henry'* works m 

lnl2volumes.gold This low-priced ofTbr with the Kipling FREE was made to introduce 0, Henry to the American public - 
tops. Also tin* 6- ^ i„,t W iion tm.iKHi people rushed at once in get this complete edition at the low prlce w we knew that l 
vnitpn.' set <»r Kip- ^ ticurv needed uo Introducing— the American public already knew and lovcdhlm. So this olTer must 
rf?kM U "he books I ^ close at once. Ai t prompt] ylmd cot your get— now— while yon can, and net the Kipling FREE. 

torKonfi^orjSeo. \ Send Coupon Without Money for 18 Volumes Free on Approval 

Henry w t only itnd retain m r J * K 

the Klplhur set without m u brings imth sets— tho Kipling and the 0. Henry — all chaws prepaid— on approval, 
(huvr. otherwise I will, m O.Henry In 19 volumes, complete. Iioninl in green silk doth, cold tops mid backs, lull of 
',',',"i', l ".\ > „''.','iV"'' % lllnsinitions-tlie Kipling In 6 volumes bound In red silk doth, gold tops and backs. 

If you don't love the world better when y<»u've read tlicin.— send nil the IK 
N """' volumes buck. Otherwise •£ *> cents n week pays for the «>. Henry. The Kip- 
Address linj; is I K I i :. .Send the OOlipOn today, while the oriel* is still good. 

REVIEW OF REVIEWS CO., 30 Irving Place, NEW YORK 

mori? a volume ami hue prowd a favoriU' ' 

binding. For 1 hi." luxurious l.indirm.rhiiruiu ^ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
in SI .50 n month fur Vilissl^ii^ii^ii^ii^ii^ii^ii^ii^ii^ii^ii^BisBi 



In answering this advertisement it i§ desirable thmt you mention Thi Am.-Stohy Mahazini. 



THE ALL-STORY 

CONTENTS FOR DECEMBER, 1913 

A Book — Complete in this Issue 

A THIEVES' COMEDY SIMEON ROBERTSON 721 

Four Serial Stories 

WARLORD OF MARS. Part I EDGAR RlCE BURROUGHS 846 

THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. Part II JACK HARROWER 870 

NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. Part III RICHARD DUFFY 904 

HER FORBIDDEN KNIGHT. Part V REX T. STOUT 935 

Four Short Stories 

LOVE GOES BLINDLY DE LYSLE FERREE CaSS 833 

THE GOLD MILL I'AYMOND S. SPEARS 899 

THE "V" FORCE FRED C. SMALE 927 

DOG'S LUCK Jack Brant 951 

TABLE-TALK THE EDITOR 957 



NEXT MONTH 
J. Earl Clauson's Novel 

"THE OUTSIDER" 

(COMPLETE) 

Here is life and love for you ! 



ISSUED MONTHLY BY THE FRANK A. MUNSEY COMPANY. 
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, and Temple House. Temple Avenue. E. C. London 

f ».»» A. Mosul, PrMldiol. Riih.bd H TlTnaai*UTO*, M r.!«.-j CumTOrMM H. Veru, TtMutii. 

Single Copies, 15c. Copybioht, 1913, by The Fbane A. Mgnbey Company By the Year. $1.50 



ENTEBED AT THE NEW YOBE POHT-OKriCE AB HECOMD-0LAH8 MAIL MATTKB.— COFYBIOHTKI* IN OBEAT BBITA1N. 



CLASSIFIED ADVERTISING 

IN THE MUNSEY MAGAZINES 

Line Kate . Special Combination L Line Kate 

Munsey's Magazine $^.no Rate $5.15 1 The Argosy $1.2fi 

Tin- Kailmad A Current Mochunles 75 ) (Less 3' r for Cash) J The All-Story 75 

January All-Storu Forms Close November 15th. ' Th » Cavalier (Weekly) G7 



AGENTS & SALESMEN WANTED 



YOUNG MAN. WOULD YOU ACCEPT AND WEAR A 

Hi if tailor-made suit just for showing li to your friends? Or 
a Slip-on Baiucnat Kreel Could you use $j.00 a day for a 
little spare timet Perhaps we can offer you a steady job? 
If you live in a town smaller than 10,000 wrlie at once 
and gel beautiful samples, styles and this wonderful offer. 
Banner Tailoring Company, Dept. f»02, Chicago. 



AGENTS. — Pair Silk Hose Free. State size. Send no money. 

Agents wanted everywhere. New Plan. Immense profits. Bcautitul 
line. Triplewear Mills. Dept. II li, 11:! So. Thirteenth. I'hila.. Pa. 



$50.00 A WEEK UP.— ALL THE FREE CLOTHES YOU 

want lo wear simply to advertise us. Write to-day for self- 
lUeasurillg blanks, style eharls, big hook of samples, etc. 
Send no Money. A posial card brings all. We pay expressage 
ou everything. American Woolen Mills Co., Dept. 12ul, Chicago. 



MAKE FIFTY DOLLARS A WEEK SEALING BENNLTT 
$18.00 PORTABLE TYPEWRITER. Docs work of $|(io.M0 
tnaehhies. Standard Keyboard visible writing. Twenty -two 
thousand In use. rulliulied field. Kitsy, quick seller, Big 
prolli. Write today. Department ti, Bennett Typewriter Co., 
366 Broadway, New Y ork C'ii y 

WE FURNISH YOU CAPITAL TO RUN A PROFITABLE 

business of your own. Heroine one of our local representatives 
ami sell high grade, custom made shins; also guaranteed 
sweaters, umlerwenr. hosiery and neckties direct )o the homes. 
Write Steadfast Mills, Dept. 23, Co hoes. X. V. 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT IS AGAIN WRITING FOR 

Scribner's. Magazine Kuliserlptlon solicitors can earn big com- 

inissions. Inquire L»esk S, Scribner's Magazine, 597 Fifth 
Avenue, New York. 



Turn Your Time Into Money. We teach you how to work up a 
successful, perniauent business handling niir new concentrated 
food ilavors In tubes, toilet preparations, etc. Something new and 
different. No compel it Ion. No experience necessary. Exclusive 
terriiory. Hustlers should make 15.00 10 $10>00 a day at 
Start. Write us now for full particulars. A postal will do. 
C. T. Morrisscy Co., 4417-20 Madlsuti Street, Chicago, IIL 

AGENTS — HANDKERCHIEFS. DRESS GOODS. Carlemn 
made (9.00 one afternoon; Mrs. Itosworth $25.00 in two days, 
rive samples. Credit. Stamp brings particulars. Kreeport Mfg. 
C o.. 4 1 Main Street. Brooklyn, X. Y. 

G. STRATTON, DENVER. MADE NET PROFIT $134.40 

on our rugs in 6 days. Working sample these rugs with 
colored illustrations of other patterns forwarded prepaid for $1.00. 
Reference: Boylstnn National Hank, Host on. Dundee Mfg. Co., 
4fl Chauncy Street. Host on. Mass. 

650 PER CENT PROFIT— EARN $25 TO $100 
WEEKLY. Families buy 12 to 40 sets. Hotels hundred-;. 
Clining Casters. Anyone can attach. Save carpets, furniture, 
floors. Carry in pocket. Free sample. F.vcrgrip Co., 201) 
Wairen Street. New York. 

SAVE YOUR LEGS. — WHY WORK SO HARD FOR SO 

little, when our line QKSlircs you large profits ami the work 
requires BUCh little effort? Investigate this. Samples free. 
I.mher Cordon Co.. 20 s N. ."»th Avenue. Chicago. 

AGENTS WANTED. — YOU CAN MAKE BIG MONEY 
selling Electrical Diamonds; scarf pins; studs ami rings. 
Semi ten cents tor samples and catalogue. It is a winner. 
I .en n wilder & S ons. S3 Bowery. New York City. 

AGENTS: GREATEST OFFER EVER MADE. Eleven-piece 
loilet article set and SI. 00 carving set. All cost you 50 cents; 
sells for $1.00. Twenty sales a day easy. Write to - day. 
l'lerce Chemical Company. K-ii 1 'lcrec HuiMin g, Chicago. 

A G E N T S — POSTAL BRINGS FREE ILLUSTRATED 
DIRECTORY. Contains details newest, best selling specialties, 
money* making propositions of responsible concerns. Albert 
Ituiler Publishing Co.. 123 Cedar Street. New York. 



WILL PAY RELIABLE MAN OR WOMAN $12.50 TO 
DISTRIBUTE 100 FREE PACKAGES Perfumed Borax Soap 
PoWder among friends and neighbors. No money required. 
R. Ward &. Company. 220 Institute Place. Chicago. 

AGENTS — $50-$75 WEEKLY SELLING GUARANTEED 
KNIT GOODS for largo! manufacturer in America. Established 
Mo years. Complete outfit free. Madison Mills, 1-A, 4S4 Broadway, 
New York Cliy . 

BIG MONEY-MAKER: EXCLUSIVE TERRITORY: fastest 
seller; needed in every household, store, in fact, everywhere; 
free samples, llirshe Manufacturing Co., 6.% Oliver Street, 
Boston. Mass. 

SALESMEN— WORKING FOR US MEANS CASH In your 
pocket every day; Household Device; duplicate orders; profits 
big; experience unnecessary. Write immediately. Specialties 
Supply Co., No. 31 Willoughhy Street. Brooklyn. N. Y. 



AGENTS: 2 5 %. WONDERFUL LITTLE ARTICLE. 

Sells like wildfire. Can be carried in pocket. Write nt once 
for free sample. If. Mathews, 1001 Third Street. Dayton. Ohio. 



AGENTS & SALESMEN WANTED 



IF $50.00 A WEEK SURE INTERESTS YOU. SEND US 

your name on a postal to-day. Besides, we give you a free 
suit of the swcllcst clothes you ever wore. Samples ami full 
particulars by return mail if you write to-day. We pay all ex- 
press charges. PuragOU Tailoring Co., Dept. 1201, Chicago. 



AGENTS— Every household on farm. In small town or suburbs 

where oil lamps arc used, needs and will buy lids wonderful 
manlle lamp; burns kerosene, gives a light live times as bright as 
electric. One farmer cleared over $500.00 in weeks; hundreds 
earning $100.00 to $300.00 per month. Write quick for wholesale 
prices, territory and Maniple lamp for free trial. Mantle Lamp Co.. 
">■"> Al addin Building, Chicago. Illinois. 

AGENTS— $50 WEEKLY. WE MANUFACTURE THE BEST 
needle case made: a wonderful seller: 2imk;, to "»0o% profit ; 
talking unnecessary: our "Trust Scheme" Envelopes do the 
work: general agents can make $lno weekly; particulars free; 
25C sample outfit Tor 10c. Buy direct from the factory, l'aty 
Needle Co.. 201 Da vi a Sq uare, W. Somervllle, Mas-;. 

REGULAR WEEKLY SALARIES TO AGENTS— FOR 
INTRODUCING OUR SWELL LINE of Toilet Products— 

there's our brand new Offer, We take all risk and guaran- 
tee satisfaction — one month's trial. Nothing ever like this 
before. Send postal for details — now. K. M. Davis, 
Ids Davis Block. Chicago. 

AGENTS — THE BIGGEST THING OUT. SELL 
"AMBREW" Concentrated Beer Extract. For making Beer 
at Home — by adding water. The real article. Not a 
substitute. Saves over one hundred per cent. Small 
package. Enormous demand, big sales, long profits. Start 
while It's new. Don't delay — just a postal today. The 
Ambrcw Company. Dept. 172:>. Cincinnati. Ohio. 

AGENTS— $40.00 A WEEK. Startling new hosiery propo- 
sition. Guaranteed for una year. Must wear twelve months or 
replaced free. G. W. Noble made $3.~».00 in one day. Sworn proof. 
Write for terms. Thom as Mfg. Co., 501 West St., Da y ton. O. 

AGENTS MAKE $25.00 WEEKLY. HANDLING fast-selling 
line of Women's Sanitary Specialties, yielding big profits. 
Write quick tor full free particulars, territory, etc. Address 
Miller & Co.. Dept. A. A.. Muske gon. M ich. 

AGENTS MAKE BIG MONEY selling our new gold letters 
for office windows, store fronts, and glass signs. Any one can 
put them on. Write today for free sample ami full particulars. 
Meta llic Sign L etter Co., 410 X . Cl ark Street. Chicago. 

300<V o TO 400% PROFIT TO AGENTS SELLING OUR 
Guaranteed U. S. Fire Extinguishers. Tremendous demand. 
Orders repeat. Exclusive territory to County and District 
Managers. Culled Mfg. Co., 1003 Jefferson. Toledo. Ohio. 

WONDERFUL INVENTION! JUST OUT. AGENTS COINING 
MONEY. Lights the home brilliantly for one cent per night. 
Allen-Sparks Gas Light Co., Lansing, Mich. 

~WE ARE~THE LARGEST MANUFACTURERS of Twisted 
Wire Brushes in America. Highest grade goods, best service, 
largest profit. Write for our new catalog. You are sure to Will. 
I ■oiler Brush Co.. 43 Hoadlcy Flacc. Hartfo rd, Co nn. 

ABSOLUTELY The Most Liberal Accident and Sickness Policy 
for a year. Death and Weekly benefit*. Competition overcome. 
Agents" commissions large. Address Dept. M, German Commercial 
Accident C o. (Sloo.oiiu.oo I'jid-in Capital). Philadelphia, 1'u. 

DRUG SALESMEN WANTED TO SELL A HIGH GRADE 
line of toilet preparations as a side line. Liberal commission. 
Otiiek sellers. Established 27> years. Gervaise Graham. 2. r . 
West Illinois Str eet . ( ' hicag o. 

AGENTS WANTED IN EVERY COUNTY TO SELL THE 
Transparent Handle Pocket Knife. Big commission paid. From 
ST.'t to $300 ■ month can be made. Write for terms. Novelty 
Cutlery Co., No. "S Bur S treet . Canton , O hio. 

I WILL START - YOU EARNING $4.00 DAILY AT "HOME 
In spare time, silvering mirrors. No capital. Any one can do 
the work. Send for free instructive booklet, giving plans of 
operation. G. F. Redmond. Dept. B. Boston. Mass. 



AGENTS— MAKE BIGGER MONEY SELLING OUR 
up-to-date novelty signs. Catalogue free. Novelty Sign Card Co.. 
Desk A-l. Boom 40S. Granite Building, St. Louis, Mo. 

$2.50 PER DAY SALARY AND ADDITIONAL COMMISSION 

paid man or woman in each town to distribute free circulars 
ami take orders for concentrated flavorings in lubes. Zlegler Co.. 

44."i-L Dearborn Street, Chicago. 

DID YOU EVER HEAR OF ANY ONE SELLING POPULAR 
25c sheet music at 5c? You can. and make 300%. Four copies 
ami proposition 10c Chicago Bool; ft Music Co.. 535 Wabash 
Avenue, Chicago, 111. 

AGENTS AND CREW MANAGERS— Sell the Majestic. Three 

Bellows Vacuum Carpet Cleaners. Sweei>er type. Kasy seller. 

Make from $5.00 to $20.00 per day. Exclusive territory. Home 
Vacuum Cleaner Co., 192$ Wabash Avenue, Chicago. 

AG ENfS WAN T~E _ D . — AGENTS - MAKE 500 PER 
CENT. PROFIT selling "Novelty Sign Cards." Merchants 
buy 10 to 100 on slglu. SO0 varieties. Catalogue Free. 
Sullivan Co.. 1233 W. Van Bureti Street, Chicago, 111. 



In answering any advertisement on this page it is desirable that you mention Thb Axl-Stort Magazine-. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 



HELP WANTED 



BIG MONEY WRITING SONGS. — WE HAVE PAID 
THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS 10 Wtlg writ CM— solid us your 

poems or melodic*. Acceptance guaranteed if available by 
largest, most successful concern of the kind. We publish, 
advertise, secure ■"■ ■ 1 i.:ni in your name antl pay fit) jwr 

rent if successful, Hundreds of delighted clients, write to- 
day for Hig Magazine. Beautiful Illustrated Monk and exam- 
ination of your work all tree. Dugdalc Company, 2it7 Dugda<c 
Building . Washington. I>._t\_ 

GOVERNMENT POSITIONS PAY BIG MONEY. Kxamina- 
Uons everywhere soon, Get prepared by former United States 
Civil Service Kxamluer. Write for free booklet. Patterson Civil 
S.rvi.t Scnool. Kn\ l;t04, Um'hcstcr. X. Y. 



LADIES MAKE SHIELDS AT HOME. $10.00 PER 100. 

Work sent prepaid to reliable women. Particulars for stamped 
addressed envelope. F.ureka Co.. Dept. 42, Kalamazoo, Mich. 



LADIES TO SEW AT HOME FOR A LARGE PH I LA. FIRM; 

good money; steady work* no canvassing; send stumped envelope 
for prices paid. Universal Co., Department M. Walnut Street, 
Philadelphia. Pa 

MEN OF IDEAS AND INVENTIVE ABILITY should write 
for new " Lists of Needed Inventions," '* Patent Buyers " and 
" How to Gel Your Patent and Your Money." Advice free. 
Randolph \- d., Patent Ulorneys. Dept. 40, Washington, 1). ('. 

WANTED — MEN 18 TO 35 TO BECOME GOVERNMENT 
RAILWAY MAIL CLERKS. Commence $73.00 Month. F.xami- 
UB lions everywhere soon. Write for free sample Questions. 
Franklin institute. Dept. A-'A. Itwliestcr. N. Y. 



WANTED.— INVESTIGATORS AND DETECTIVES. 

$150.00 to $:!Oft.oo per month. Some traveling positions, Free 
particulars. National Detective Agetiey, Dept. W-6, Chicago. 



BE A DETECTIVE— EARN $150.00 TO $300.00 MONTHLY. 

Easy work; wc show you S open to all: experience unnecessary. 
Pull particulars mailed to you. Write Wagner, 1243 Lexington 
Avenue. New York. Department 4'!3. _ 



WOMEN AGENTS 



WOMEN WANTED TO SELL A HIGH GRADE LINE OF 

toilet preparations to drug trade on commission. Liberal 
terms. An exceptional opportunity to make money. Gervalse 
Graham, 25 West Illinois Street, Chicago. 



BUSINESS OPPORTUNITIES 



AN EXCEPTIONAL OPPORTUNITY for a few live men 

with small capital to engage in a good, prutltahle business, Wc 
want representatives rot our Hue of Toilet Preparations, Per- 
fumery and Specialties, and can offer a proposition with territory 
on very attractive terms with good profits. Write for particulars. 
Nation al Dlsl. Co., jfitf" Belmont Avenue. Chica go. 111. 

BUTlD A $5000.00 BUSINESS IN TWO YEARS. Let ua 
.start you In the collection business. No capital needed: hig 
Held. We teach secrets of collecting money; refer business 
to you. Write to - day for Free Pointers and new plan. 
American Cnlhdion Service, il Stale Street, Detroit, Mhh. 

$1.00 STARTS YOU manufacturing stove polish that pol- 
ishes nickel and blackens stow at same time. This polish gets 
the money. Formula, complete instructions, guaranteed, 91.00. 
1'. Piiikl»eincr. 41tl Sey mour. Syracuse . N. Y . 
^ADVERTISERS. MAIL DEALERS! Our Advertising Guide 

giws rates, circulation of 2.00Q different publications: includes 

30 mail order plans. Sent complete 10c. Dearborn Advertising 
Agency, MS Franklin Building. Chicago, 

REPRESENTATIVE FOR AUTO APPLIANCE, to take full 
control of territory. Wc want clever men. preferably with machine, 
financially capable of carrying small stock. Exclusive contract 

will In- given. Address Poxainctcr, 2132 Michlgn 11 Ave.. Chicago. 



TRADE SCHOOLS 

EARN $90.00 TO - $175.00 A MONTH AS Expert Electrician, 

Plumiier. Bricklayer. Draft>ninn or Moving Picture Operator. 
Write immediately. Special Instruction. Position free. Coyne 
National Trade Schools, Dept. 1 070. Chicago, HI. 



FOR THE HOME 



BEAUTIFUL NAVAJO RUGS. 3x6 FEET, WOOL FACED 
BOTH SIDES, Reversible, sure to please. Itcturn goods my ex- 
pense* money refunded: no questions asked. Ity Parcels Post, 
94.25. Howard L. MoUle, l.ivermorc. Calif. 



FOR WOMEN 

GET ACQUAINTED WITH Bl J U. TH E WALL- FLOW E R'S 

friend. Don't he mentioned as just among those present. 

Enjoy woman's natural sphere. Be attractive and admired. 
Assist nature naturally. A postal Introduces Bijou. Riverside 
Supplj !■<.. N:r. Montcalm St., Indianapolis, Indiana. 



ARTICLES IN GLASS 



DO YOU WANT ANYTHING MADE IN GLASS? If to, 

consult me: I can give you any style, shape and color of glass. 
Lewis Farnshaw. Class Expert, 200 Milk Street, Boston, Mass. 



PATENT ATTORNEYS 



PATENTS THAT PROTECT AND PAY. ADVICE 
and Books Free. Highest references. Best results. Prompt- 
ness assured. Send sketch or model for free search. Watson 
K. Coleman, Patent Lawyer. 6n F Street, Washington, D. C. 



PATENTS. TRADE - MARKS AND COPYRIGHTS. Our 

Itatid hook on patents will he sent free 011 request. All 
1 patents secured through US are described without cost to the 
patentee in the Scientific American. Munn & Co.. Patent At- 
torneys. 370 Broadway, New York. Washington Office, OSS F 
Street, Washington, 1>. C. 

"PATENT SECURED OR FEE RETURNED. SEND SKETCH 

for free report aa to patentability. Guide Book and What to 
Invent, with valuable list of inventions Wanted, sent free. 
One Million Dollars offered for one invention. Patents se- 
cured by us advertised free in World's Progress; sample free. 
Victor J. Evans & Co.. W ashington. D. C. 

IDEAS WANTED— MANUFACTURERS ARE WRITING 

for patents procured through me. Three books with list 'J00 
Inventions wanted sent free. .Advice free. I get patent or no fee. 
B. B. Owen, 09 Owen B uilding. Washington . D. C. 

" PRIZES FOR PATENTS." " MONEY IN PATENTS." 
"How To Gel Your Patent And Money." "Why Sonic in- 
ventors Fall." "Needed Inventions." Sent free. Randolph Ac Co., 
B24 F Street, W ashington, D. C. 

UNITED STATES AND FOREIGN PATENTS^ Free Book 
and opinion as to patentability. Joshua It. II. Potts. Patent 
Lawyer, 8 Dearborn St.. Chicago; 929 Chestnut St., Phila- 
delphia: S05 C St.. Washington. 



MUSIC, SHEET MUSIC AND 
INSTRUCTION 

SONG POEMS WANTED— SEND US YOUR SONG POEMS 
or Melodies. A hit will bring big money. Proposition posi- 
tively unequaled. Available work accepted f"r publication and 
copyright secured in your name. Our composing staff best of 
any company of its kind. Instructive booklet free. Marks- 
Goldsmith Co.. Dept. 2ti, Washington, D. C. 

SONG WRITERS, POEM WRITERS. COMPOSERS, SEND 

us your manuscripts to-day. Prompt publication If accept able- 
No experience necessary. Successful writers make big money. 
1'. J. Howley Music Co., 102 W. 42d Street, New York. 



PIANOS 



DO NOT PAY FANCY PRICES FOR CHEAP NEW PIANOS; 

buy standard make slightly used. We have a large assortment 
of the beal makes from 9125.00 up, delivery' free anywhere, and 
very easy terms. For sixty-live years Pease Pianos have been 
a standard of durability. Write for complete list. Pease Pianos, 
l-eggctt Avenue and Hurry Street. Bronx, N. Y. 



MOTION PICTURE PLAYS ACTING 

WRITE MOVING PICTURE PLAYS; $10.00 to $100.00 each: 

constant demand; devote alt or spare time; experience, literary 
ability or correspondence course unnecessary. Details free. 
Atl as Pu blishing Co.. 312 Atlas Bank Bldg.. Cincinnati. Ohio. 

TEN LESSON COURSE COMPLETE, $2.00: TEACHES YOU 
how to write and where to Wfll Moving Picture Play*. 
Why pay more? Free Illustrated Booklet and indorsements. 
I'cnii Association, Heed Building. Philadelphia, Pa., Dept. N. 



DRAMATIC 



Complete Makeups for any of the following characters, including 
necessary Wigs, Paints. Beards, Powders, etc.. at $1.36 each, post - 
1 paid: .lew, Indian. Chinese, Itube, Irish, Dutch. Negro, Bridget. 
1 »ld Maid, etc. Send for Cat. Percy Kwing <'o..Clk. A. Decatur, 111 . 



GAMES AND ENTERTAINMENTS 



PLAYS. VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES, MONOLOGUES. Dia- 
logues, Speakers, Minstrel Material. Jokes, Recitations. Tableaux. 

Drills, Fniertainments. Make I'p Goods. Large Catalog free. 
T. S. Denlson & Co., Dipt. 4:t. Chicago. 



XMAS GIFTS 



Philippine Hand Embroidery. Carefully selected Waist Fronts, 
brought direct from Manila. Beautiful designs artistically done by 
deft native tinners on rinesi F.nglish Peurlii.e Dawn. Splendid gilts. 

each, postpaid. Satisfaction or money back. Order early. Supply 
limited. Mrs. C. M. Greer, Box ".4. Fort Bussed, Wyo. 



LOOSE LEAF DEVICES 



EVERYBODY SHOULD CARRY A LOOSE LEAF MEMO 
BOOK. Why; Because it is economic. Sample with Genuine 
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TYPEWRITERS 



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JPEAA .VBY MAIU 



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SHORT- STORY WRITING 



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The Home Correspondence School 

Dr. Keenwetu Urpl. 1911. Spi lii K tIi>M. Dm 



bALE 



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Dept. 409. Chicago, III. 




Are paid Larger Salaries than any other class of men I 

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You Can 

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Hox n04li ScrantoBi Panna. 





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of lllulrMnif 
and I arlutmlnit 

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The Landon School 




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SONG 



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JOHN T. HALL, Pns. 134 Columbus Circle. NEW YORK. 



AT VERY BIG SALARIES 

Itcccntly emu-tod laws luiv suddenly created hi;." salaried positions 
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WE TRAIN YOU BY MAIL 

aT home, Id span tune, rarardlesa of yoar aire-, edueatior 

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CDPF Write for free book - '• lu ) 
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LA SALLE EXTENSION UNIVERSITY 

Dept. iiik Chicago, in. 





3* 



YOU .-GET A GOVERNMENT JOB 
$800 to $1800 A YEAR FOR LIFE 

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Address ^ |m 



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THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 




The Man Who Can! 

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P the position marked "X." All-Story, 

I ....Electrici) Kn e incrr ....Lawyrr 

_ ....Klcc. l.iirht k Power Supt. .... Bookkeeper - 

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.... Telephone Expert •...Prlrate Secretin . 

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• ■•.BnUdlng Contractor ....foil Accountant 

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I ....Structural Draft-inan ....Auilitor 1 

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l ....fiuEngine Engineer College Preparatory 

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| 1 

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^Address • •• g 



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In answering: any advertisement on this page it is desirable that you mention Thi All-Stobt Maqazini. 



THE ALL-STORY 



Vol. XXVII 



DECEMBER, 1913. 



No. 4 




ieve 



4 

Simeon. 
Robertson. 










A BOOK — COMPLETE IN THIS ISSUE. 



CHAPTER I. 

THE SEED SYSONSBY SOWED. 

WE later-day Didderingtons have 
had no particular reason to 
refer back to July 4, 1776, 
with enthusiasm. 

At the time of which I write — Sep- 
tember, 19 — , I was the only one of 
the name, and was not terribly proud 
of the distinction under the circum- 
stances, the explanation of which is 
an awful fag, but must be got over 
with if the rest of the stuff 1 am going 
to write is to have any sense at all. 

Your revolution had nothing to do 
with it ; but upon the day you decided 
to lick us, and your lithographers be- 
gan to turn out the annual supply of 

'i S 



George Washingtons. my great-great- 
grandfather, the eighth Earl of Did- 
derington, was born. 

He is really responsible for this 
story. 

From birth to marriage, and thence 
to death, he was a deuce of a chap — 
a rotter — fond of dueling with people 
he could kill, of gambling, and drink- 
ing, and of other men's wives. 

Didderington families have always 
been small. Like myself, he was an 
only child, and I suppose, being heir 
to an earldom, there were not a few 
marriageable ladies who found it pos- 
sible to overlook his beastly habits. In 
any case, one foolish woman married 
him. 

They had two children, a son and a 



722 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



daughter, who were four and two 
years of age respectively when their 
father came into the title in 1810. 

He played ducks and drakes with 
everything. His wife died in 1832, 
literally killed by his brutality, and in 
the same year his daughter, refusing 
to be payment for one of his horrible 
gambling debts to some rone who 
wanted to marry her, left Didder ing- 
ton Park very suddenly one evening 
with Bob Dolliver, the lodgekeeper's 
son, and neither was ever seen or 
heard of again. 

The earl died as he had lived — 
swiftly — in 1836. Some say a wom- 
an shot him in revenge for a particu- 
uarly devilish trick he had played upon 
her or hers. 

The facts are clouded, but in any 
case he was found lying upon his face 
inside the main entrance gate of the 
park with an ugly bullet hole in the 
back of his head. 

But there was little relief in that for 
the Didderington exchequer. 

His son — brother of the girl who 
ran away — was just as much of an 
ass as the father, though in a different 
way. He married a woman who took 
charge of his check-book and used it, 
by Jove, as if she were issuing soap 
coupons. They, in turn, were blessed 
with an heir whose one idea in life ap- 
pears to have been to do as mother 
had done. 

That he was rather successful, my 
father probably learned when he be- 
came the eleventh Earl of Diddering- 
ton. 

In spite of his antecedents, my 
father was everything worth while — 
that is, he was a gentleman and a 
scholar, and even spoke in the House 
of Lords once or twice, to prove that 
he was also a patriot. 

But. poor old chap, he had no idea 
of business, and my mother died when 
I was born. 

I am the last of the Didderingtons 
— without a relative in the whole wide 
world. 

Upon my father's death I fell heir 



to the title and a lot of legal phrase- 
ology explaining why the Diddering- 
ton estates did not belong to me. 

I went through those mortgages 
like the six hundred at Balaklava — 
mortgages to right of me, mortgages 
to left of me, volleying and thunder- 
ing interest-notices like grape-shot. I 
was in a horrible fix. 

Most of the cannons belonged to a 
chap named Rollins — Theodore D. 
Rollins. 

I had never heard of the beggar be- 
fore, but my lawyers told me he was 
an American who appeared anxious 
to take up all the mortgages, and had 
already secured several that had not 
originally been held by him. 

There were really only two parcels 
of the Didderington estates he had not 
snapped up. 

One was a small piece of farmland 
which I did not care a rap about, and 
the other was a hundred square yards 
or thereabouts of Didderington Park, 
including the lodge at the gates. 

The latter was a rather strategetical 
piece of property. Including the prin- 
cipal entrance, the lodge and the first 
hundred yards of the main carriage 
drive, the owner of it could, if he 
cared, close the whole place up and 
force the proprietor of the rest of the 
park to go to a jolly lot of expense 
building a new road and a new en- 
trance for himself. 

That mortgage was held by a shrewd 
old chap named Silas Anson, who was 
not much given to sentiment. He did 
not care a hang whether the Didder- 
ingtons were, after centuries of resi- 
dence there, thrown out of Diddering- 
ton Park or not, and as I knew per- 
fectly well that I could not hold out 
for more than two or three years at 
most, meeting interest-bills only, 
there wasn't a chance in a thousand 
that I would be able to take up the 
mortgage on the lodge when it fell 
due in March of the coming year. 

The amount was ten thousand 
pounds. 

If I could not find it within six 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



723 



months Anson would, of course, sell 
the property to the highest bidder. 
Rollins ! 

I could almost feel that beggar 
waiting for March to come round, and, 
naturally, I was very eager to know 
why he was trying to close me out. It 
isn't very nice to have some one you 
don't know buying your place over 
your head. 

That Rollins chap could stand in 
the main gateway with a bill of sale in 
lieu of a flaming sword and bar me 
from the domains of my ancestors, as 
old Timothy Dol liver, great-grandson 
of the original Dolliver. used to keep 
out picnic parties on our " closed " 
days. 

Timothy was the last of the Dolli- 
vers to stand guard over our gateway. 
He had six daughters, but no son, and 
I think the fact preyed upon his mind 
toward the end. A Dolliver had al- 
ways been lodgekeeper at Diddering- 
ton Park, but, as he said himself at 
the birth of each daughter : 

" Lasses are nowt — nowt. I tell ee — 
but for marryin' an' changin' their 
names ! " 

To return to business — my rents 
and so forth barely cared for the huge 
loans made in times past, and when 
one attempts to keep up a place like 
Didderington Park, and have oneself 
live up to it, the result is obvious to 
any one who can put two and two suc- 
cessfully together. 

I thought that over. It wasn't a bit 
difficult to realize that expenses must 
be cut in half and cut again, and that 
I must make money somehow or 
other. 

But I couldn't think of a single 
thing. I was stumped completely — 
middle wicket. 

So I went to the club and told Sys- 
onsby about it. 

Sysonsby fagged for me at Eton, 
and he is quite as much of an ass now 
as he was then, but he is the only chap 
I can get to listen to me. All the others 
are afraid I have got the Diddering- 
ton habit of borrowing money, but as 



Sysonsby hasn't got any to lend, he 
doesn't care. 

He said quite frankly after I had 
explained things to him : 

" Didder, you're a chump. If I had 
your advantages do you suppose I'd 
hang round' this club jingling a few 
pennies in my pocket : 

" You seem to forget that you're 
an earl — a knight of the strawberry- 
leaf, with a seat in the House of Lords. 
That you are an idiot does not matter. 

" If you will read the list of imports 
once a month you shall find that sev- 
eral million dollars' worth of Ameri- 
can heiress has been brought to our 
shores for the purpose of dusting off 
musty coronets and renovating deca- 
dent ancestral halls. Of course, I 
must admit, Didderington is a devil of 
a name to ask any woman to take; 
but you could at least try it." 

I won't repeat verbatim what I said, 
but I told him I'd be hanged if I would. 
I am not that sort of a chap. 

Sysonsby seemed bottled for a bit — 
quite disappointed: then, all at once, 
he slapped his knee. And when that 
beggar slaps his knee one can expect 
something almost original. 

" I have it ! " he exclaimed so loud- 
ly that an old chap napping in a near- 
by chair jumped, gaped, and glared at 
Sysonsby, so that he modulated his 
enthusiasm a little. 

"You have what?" I asked, and 
nodded to one of the club waiters to 
bring the " usual." 

" The whole plot. And if it isn't 
right it ought to be. It's too good to 
be wrong." 

"Wait for the drinks, old chap; I 
may need mine after you've told it 
worse than I do now." 

" Oh. bosh ! It's quite pretty in its 
way. Theodore D. Rollins you said 
the chap's name was ? " 

I nodded. 

" Well, it's quite,, simple," Sysonsby 
continued with that idiotic assurance 
of his. " Rollins is a millionaire, of 
course, and has a daughter with an 
eye upon the peerage. 



724 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" Two or three of her chums have 
landed coronets, and she is simply 
aching to call herself countess of some- 
thing or other. She is an only daugh- 
ter. Rollins would buy her the moon 
if he could — and he has learned about 
you, looked you up, found that you 
batted a few centuries for S'urrey last 
year ; that you can sit on a horse well 
enough to play on a second-grade polo 
four — that you stand seventy-one and 
a half inches in your socks; that you 
have a passable countenance and are 
not such a fool as you look. 

" One can't have everything, so he 
has decided to put up with your name, 
and when he has bought up all the 
Didderington mortgages he shall come 
to you and say : ' Young man, I own 
the castles and the lands of your an- 
cestors. All I need to complete the 
business is that thing you stick on your 
head on state occasions, and I guess 
I've got to get you to get that. I have 
a daughter — ' and the thing is done. 

" Of course, to make it novelettish, 
you've got to meet her somewhere be- 
fore the old chap comes on the scene 
at all, and fall in love with her and she 
with you, without either of you know- 
ing who the other is. She must be 
ravishingly beautiful, and you — well 
— you can't be helped. Rollins is pay- 
ing for it, so I have no reason to com- 
plain." 

The waiter came and departed. I 
drank deeply before I replied, and 
since there were other club members 
in the smoking-room, of course, I 
spoke quietly. 

What I said does not really matter. 
Sysonsby laughed at it. He has no 
respect for a chap's feelings, and he 
foolishly proposed a wager that Rol- 
lins was really up to the stupid busi- 
ness of buying me as a husband for 
his daughter. 

I refused it at all events; said it was 
tommyrot and that, in an)' case, I 
would not marry the girl if she were 
as fascinating as Cleopatra and as 
rich as the Bank of England. 

And Sysonsby laughed again — a 



beastly, knowing laugh — as if he had 
more grounds for his idiotic theories 
than mere imagination. 

" All right, old chap," he said, sip- 
ping his whisky and soda and looking 
queerly at me over the top of the glass. 
" Have it your own way. But I should 
advise you to find out what Rollins is 
after — if it isn't your coronet. 

" He evidently means to shut the 
gates of Didderington Park and the 
doors of Didderington Manor in your 
face one of these days. Look him up, 
old man. 

" She may not be as fascinating as 
Cleopatra nor as rich as the Bank of 
England — but a name like yours must 
give some discount. I'm going to get 
shaved. I believe the Randania sails 
on Saturday." 

I said in the beginning that Sysons- 
by was an idiot, and I still thought so 
when, the following Saturday, from 
the Randania's upper promenade-deck 
I watched Holyhead vanish into thin 
blue haze. 



CHAPTER II. 

sysonsby's friend. 

Every one has been seized with a 
few foolish impulses. Sailing upon 
the Randania was one of mine, but I 
was reallv never more serious in my 
life. 

Somehow or other, I could not get 
Sysonsby's idea out of my head. Per- 
haps you know how it is? 

The germ of a remote possibility 
bothers you. You laugh at it at first — 
not very sincerely — but the thing 
sticks: and the more you think of it the 
bigger and more bothersome it grows, 
until you admit it quite probable. Then 
you lie awake at night, and before 
morning you are quite sure there is no 
mistake about it. 

J spent two quite interesting days 
and nights — hardly slept a wink — 
thought like the dickens — and rose 
upon Eriday morning very much deter- 
mined to leave my bally coronet in the 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



725 



dust-bin until I could pick it out and 
clean it myself. 

That forenoon I called upon my 
lawyers, told them to look after my 
rents and so forth — to sack everybody 
at Didderington Park but the house- 
keeper, a maid, and the gardener, who 
had a wife and a fine little chap they 
were foolish enough to give my name 
to; and, further, the lawyers were to 
give me one thousand pounds — if I 
were worth that much. 

They said I could have eleven hun- 
dred if I wanted all the cashr thai was 
legally mine; but I stuck to my plan 
and took the thousand, determined to 
make it ten in six months or go to the 
wall. 

. I disliked that man Rollins intense- 
ly, more particularly since I could 
learn nothing of him in London; and 
I also entertained an antipathy toward 
the " heiress daughter " of Sysonsby's 
story. But, as one will. I thought I'd 
rather like to see whether she was as 
ravishingly beautiful as she *' novel- 
ettishly " ought to be. 

That was possibly one reason why 
I booked a passage on the Randania — 
but the other two were much more im- 
portant. 

1 wanted to learn, first hand if I 
could, more of the future owner of 
Didderington Manor and to sink my 
identity and my thousand where 1 be- 
lieved the quickest results could be ob- 
tained, and thought it would be rich if 
Rollins should own the manor and 
most of the park, while I held the 
lodge and the gate with money T'd 
made right under his nose. 

When I booked a berth under the 
name of John T. Mason and glanced 
at the passenger-list. I felt that the 
Earl of Didderington had given the 
chance of recognition the slip. 

Yet, though there was no one on the 
Randania with whom I was even dis- 
tantly acquainted, the majority of the 
passengers being Americans returning 
from summering in Europe — I held to 
my stateroom pretty religiously, bri- 
bing a steward to serve all my meals 



there,- only going up on deck after 
dark. 

The weather was ideal, and usually 
for an hour or two after dinner the 
decks were quite lively ; then the crowd 
would thin out by twos and threes; 
careful mamas would trot frivolous 
daughters away from, light flirtations 
in shadowy corners. 

The piano in the music-room, that 
hammered " sugar - moons " and 
" Junes " and " spoons " out of its sys- 
tem for hours on end. would give one 
last wail in the forth of " Auld Lang 
Syne " or '* My Country, 'Tis of 
Thee "— God Save the King " I call 
it — and join hands with its tormentors 
in silence ; the chatter and the laughter 
would die away into the bowels of the 
ship, and the men. left to their own 
devices, would struggle with desultory, 
monotoned conversation for a little 
while until, one by one, their " good- 
night " cigars would go whirling over- 
board, and they would descend to their 
cabins. 

In the smoke-room, of course, men 
sat late, idling with chance and their 
refreshments till the deck steward re- 
spectfully intimated his intention to 
put out the lights. 

Upon the third night out. when al- 
most even- one else had gone to bed, 
1 was strolling up and down the deck, 
trying to appreciate the moon and the 
rather pretty effect upon the water. 

Some chaps — I don't mean poets — 
go into ecstacies over that sort of 
thing. I can't. Tt probably goes a 
little too deep for me — that is, I don't 
care to say too nnuch about it. 

I had the deck to myself, though 
there were still sounds of hilarity ema- 
nating from the smoke-room. 

Away to starboard I saw what I at 
first presumed was a particularly large 
and restless star. Plaiting and leaning 
over the rail. I discovered the star to 
be the headlight of a tramp or some- 
thing of the kind, and for a few min- 
utes the bobbing light interested me. 

I wondered what she carried, where 
she had come from, whither she was 



726 THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



bound? To suit my fancy, she was a 
tramp — black and storm-beaten, with 
a rugged, bearded skipper on the 
bridge, guiding her on her wallowing 
course from Hamburg to Honolulu. 

She had anchored in the shadow of 
Table Mountain, stuck her nose into 
the shifting Niger mud, became ice- 
bound at Archangel, and run foul of 
a pirate junk off Hong-Kong. 

According to my arrangement of 
her movements, she was plowing 
through the treacherous, heaving Bay 
of Biscay, bound for Tangiers. 

" The Earl of Didder ington is not 
a believer in the old adage of early 
to bed and early to rise ? " 

The voice was deep and low, and 
as I turned my head sharply I saw that 
the owner of it was quite worthy. His 
face was not quite distant at first, but 
there was no mistaking his size. 

He was huge — dwarfed me com- 
pletely in height, breadth, and person- 
ality. One felt the last first and at 
once, even in the dark — as if one were 
standing in a presence and was instant- 
ly awed thereby. 

I was startled, of course. Never 
having seen the man before, I was at 
a loss to know how he knew my name, 
and as I tried to peer under the broad- 
rimmed felt hat he wore a soft laugh 
.escaped him. 

" That is a waste of time," he told 
me quietly. " Will you walk, or do 
you prefer to watch that tramp ped- 
dling her way to the scrap-heap? It's 
all the same to me.'' 

The authority in his tone nettled me 
for a bit. I gasped and stood still, 
wondering why I did it. Then I 
laughed — as best I could. 

" You're a queer chap — very inter- 
esting, no doubt, and all that — but, you 
see, I don't know you. My name is 
Mason. Good night." 

I intended to walk away and leave 
him there, but I didn't. A large finger 
halted me — just a finger; the hand it 
belonged to must have resembled a 
• roast. 

" I am glad to make your acquaint- 



ance, Mr. Mason," he said calmly. 
" Men who know me little call me 
Campbell. That will do for the pres- 
ent. Others who know me better have 
another name for me, but it canna be 
even whispered here. I am your friend. 
Is not that enough? Are ye a man or 
a cateran? " 

I stayed and puzzled and looked 
blankly up at him. with that " canna " 
of his sticking in my ears. That 
word, apart from the name he had 
given me, fixed his nationality. 

" Very well. Mr. Campbell. I'll re- 
turn the compliment and say I am glad 
to make your acquaintance," I decided 
at last. " Let's go and sit down some- 
where, farther away from the smoke- 
room. I'm interested, really, and if 
it's anything one-half as mysterious as 
you are, I'm selfish enough to want to 
keep it all to myself." 

Without another word he piloted me 
into the shadow of a deck-house, where 
he distributed his huge bulk over a 
deck-chair, while I lit a cigar — offering 
him one, which he refused — and sat 
down beside him. 

" I seldom smoke when I want to 
talk." he told me, and added : " You're 
a canny man — for a Didderington. 
They've generally been a feckless crew, 
and when a friend o' us both said you 
might sail on the Randania, I thought 
I'd sail wi' ye — tae keep ye oot o' mis- 
chief." 

I sat up. 

" Sysonsby! " 

Campbell nodded, and, leaning back 
in his chair, unconsciously gave me a 
better view of his face. 

It was broad and strong, clean- 
shaven, set with deep blue eyes that 
danced sometimes or remained danger- 
ously steady at others, giving one due 
warning of what might happen if one 
was not very careful. The mouth 
opened and closed like a trap, and no 
one could, for a moment, mistake the 
compelling quality of his voice or un- 
derestimate the folly of antagonizing 
him. 

" Mr. Sysonsby is the man ! " he de- 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



727 



clared quietly in reply to my exclama- 
tion. " He did me a service once in 
Paris and we exchanged cards. When- 
ever I am in London I look him up. 
This time he told me about you, and — " 

"The deuce he did!" I exclaimed, 
and wished Sysonsby were within 
arm's length of me. 

" Dinna swear. No man ever got 
anywhere of consequence by the use o' 
profane language, and there's one of 
those smoke-room fools who's been 
drinking more than his head can stand, 
glowerin' at us like a sheep." 

As I turned my head the " smoke- 
room fool " in question lurched across 
the deck toward the rail and hung over 
it limply. I moved with the intention 
of helping him to a chair, but again 
Campbell stayed me with a finger. 

" Mind your own business. The 
man's all right, and that's the deck- 
steward's work. But . I like the spirit 
o 1 charity in ye. That's no' a Didder- 
ington trait. Sysonsby said ye were a 
good sort, and mebbe you're no' so 
saft as ye look." 

His great hand suddenly seized un- 
arm, crushing my biceps till I almost 
yelped. 

" Um — it might be worse." he ad- 
mitted, while I looked somewhat blank- 
ly at him and felt his proprietary atti- 
tude creeping over me. 

" Who — who the dickens are you? " 
I asked at last desperately. " And 
what did Sysonsby tell you? You talk- 
as if you'd known me all my life, and 
I've never set eyes on you before. I 
know you're Scotch, of course — " 

" And there ye're wrang." he inter- 
rupted softly, and continuing, his voice 
instantly altered, without a trace of 
Scotch in it : "I am an American of 
New York, five generations removed 
from Aberfoyle. where my forefathers 
were kings of men. T was born a 
stone's throw from Fifth Avenue, and 
was educated at Harvard. 

" My father's name was one to con- 
jure with in Wall Street, and mine has 
been coupled in rumor with almost 
every debutante that has been thrown 



upon the Four Hundred's matrimonial 
market since I slipped into my father's 
shoes. 

'* I have been invited to run for a 
seat in Congress, and the Mayor of 
New York has several times declared 
that I was one of the city's most dis- 
tinguished citizens." 

A chuckle of enjoyment came from 
the depths of his great chest. 

" These are my credentials, and I've 
given you the name of a friend of us 
both — and maybe you've heard of a 
man named Rollins?" 

Heard of him? Good Heaven — • 
the man owned me ! 

" Yes — yes — do you know the beg- 
gar ? " I admitted and asked hurriedly. 

" There's young Van Huysen being 
carried off to his bed." Campbell de- 
clared with most irritating irrelevancy, 
referring to the smoke-room fool who 
was led toward the companionway by 
the deck-steward. 

" He'll be twenty-one next March, 
and will burn enough money anv day of 
his life thereafter to keep ten able- 
bodied, useful humans for a year. The 
Lord didn't mean that to happen when 
the world was first thought of! " 

" No — no — of course not." I agreed 
at once. " But this Rollins chap — " 

" Is a nasty man to look to for sym- 
pathy." Campbell interrupted absent- 
ly, watching the young man vanish 
down the companion. *' He wastes it 
all on that young skate I've been telling 
you about — young Van Huysen is his 
nephew, you know. Rollins's daugh- 
ter and he are engaged to be married 
— next year." 

For some unearthly reason I was 
disappointed. 

Campbell looked dreamily out 
across the water, and for a moment or 
two there was silence. 

" Rollins has made money, and he 
keeps it," he continued in a low tone, 
still looking straight ahead. " That 
man would not give ten cents to a Sal- 
vation Army Christmas dinner. But 
he will— he 'will ! " 

He turned toward me quickly. 



728 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" Mark me, Didder ington, I say he 
will ! Not ten cents, either — no — not 
ten cents ! " 

" But — what the dickens — " I be- 
gan blankly, and he suddenly leaned 
forward and laid his hand on my arm. 

" You know where you stand? " he 
questioned hurriedly in a low tone, 
and his voice changed instantly. " I 
need not remind you of your condi- 
tion — and you are going to New York 
where a life can be bought for a meal? 

" You're a nuisance in. the eyes of 
some people. I know; but I can offer 
you my assistance, which better men 
than you have accepted before this, 
and, nae doot, will accept again. I 
am a man wha bothers little wi' the 
la\y. The law is for them that need it 
to hide behind and evade their honest 
obligations. 

" If ye tak" up wi' me I can help ye 
and put ye back where your fathers 
were; but ye must be prepared for 
things ye never thought of, and to 
help me when your turn comes. I give 
nothing for nothing — not even to a 
starving man. 

" When he is fed and able to stand 
and use his hand or his head, he must 
work and do my bidding. And I'll 
no' turn any man's toes doon the 
vvrang road. 

" That's my proposal. I'll help. you 
if you'll help me, and if ye'd like to 
meet the man Rollins, be at my club 
next Thursday at ten in the morning." 

He rose very suddenly, thrusting a 
card into my hand. 

" But. hang it all ! " I protested, 

gaping. 

" Wheesht! "No' a word o' this 
to a soul. Men who bargain wi' me 
don't, as a rule, ask questions. I tell 
them a' I think they ought to ken — 
an' nae mair. 

" On this ship we don't know each 
other — understand ? Keep to your 
night-owl practises. That's best for 
us all — at present. Gude nicht. Mr. 
Mason. I'll be at the club next Thurs- 
dav at 10 a.m. sharp." 

He turned his huge frame about, 



and in a moment more was swinging 
from my sight down the saloon com- 
panion, leaving me to stare after him, 
wondering which of us was the great- 
er fool. 

Then, as several of the smoking- 
room habitues came on deck, I real- 
ized that in my isolation I was ma- 
king myself conspicuous, and imme- 
diately descended to my cabin where, 
switching on the light, I glanced at the 
card Campbell had given me. 

It had a curious border of small red 
and black squares, and upon it was 
printed : 



FOR CHARITY 



CHAPTER III. 

THE YONKERS AFFAIR. 

Before we reached New York I 
hanged Sysonsby quite frequently for 
discussing my affairs with strangers. 

But hanging him did not alter mat- 
ters a bit, and Campbell's mysterious 
manner, his apparent knowledge of 
Rollins, his blind proposal, and the 
Scottish dialect he, as an American, so 
curiously affected, kept me constantly 
deciding and reversing my decision to 
accept his offer of assistance. 

The chap interested me. He was 
a new experience, and his claim that 
he could put me back " where my 
fathers had been," though bombastic, 
was at least in keeping with my ideas. 
What he expected of me in return I 
could not fathom. 

I looked at the card he had given 
me a hundred times a day, and it was 
not easy to curb my curiosity upon the 
several matters that were then of im- 
portance, but though I went up on 
deck every evening, hopeful that he 
would renew our conversation, I 
learned no more of him on the Ran- 
dania. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



729 



I saw him several times, and am 
quite sure that he always saw me. but 
there was nothing in his expression to 
suggest iu His principal interest ap- 
peared to be the entertainment of two 
young ladies and a distinguished-look- 
ing matron, whom 1 presumed was 
their mother. 

A young man, resembling the 
"young Van Huysen " who had been 
put to bed by the deck-steward, some- 
times hovered in the background, giv- 
ing most of his attention to the young- 
er girl, who was also the prettier of 
the two. 

Campbell appeared to share himself 
equally among them all, and though 
he was probably upon the sunny side 
of thirty-five, he acted as a sort of 
pater familias, with the apparent ap- 
proval of the matron, who might have 
been his sister — or the sister of his 
mother. She was that sort of woman 
with her age so carefully concealed 
that one might err twenty years. 

I could not study any of them very 
Avell there, however, nor amid the hor- 
rible bustle and excitement on the pier 
at New York, which the ship news re- 
porters tell you about every day; and 
while I was having a dickens of a 
time with a customs officer, who must 
have suspected that I was not very re- 
spectable, Campbell and the others 
vanished in the crush. 

When the customs chap had quite 
finished ferreting through my baggage 
and seemed disappointed that my dec- 
laration had been a truthful one. I 
bought a taxi and drove to a very quiet, 
micfdle-class hotel in Fifty-Fifth Street. 
I say " bought " advisedly, as I might 
have had a London taxi for a week for 
what that chauffeur said the taximeter 
charged me for about fifteen minutes. 

Signing the hotel register as Mason, 
I secured two rooms with a bath, and 
immediately settled down to the busi- 
ness of playing valet to myself, and of 
making myself comfortable for at least 
six months. 

Of course, I know now that I began 
all wrong. 



I should have forgotten everything 
I'd ever been — sold my " topper " and 
my English-made clothes, taken a 
three-dollar-a-week room somewhere 
in the " Nineties,'' lived on fifty cents 
a day. denying myself cigars and other 
kindred trifles, and I should have 
bought up several bootblack stands or 
dabbled in margins till my five thousand 
dollars had become fifty thousand or 
had vanished altogether. 

Or. I should have brought my coro- 
net with me, taken a suite of rooms at 
the most expensive hotel I could find, 
worn the coronet all day, everywhere, 
and hired myself out to advertise some- 
body's breakfast food or soap at ten 
thousand a day. expenses paid. Every 
newspaper in the country would have 
given the thing a column — particularly 
if I furnished the story that went 
with it. 

Then I might have — 

But there are innumerable things I 
might have done. 

Instead, I practically sat down in a 
middle-rate hotel, which means noth- 
ing of importance to any one, waiting 
for Thursday morning, which was four 
days away. 

Campbell's offer of assistance had 
stilled my initiative — such as it was — 
and I'm afraid I leaned upon him more 
than I had any right to do, considering 
that I knew nothing about the man. 

That leaning habit is fatal, and it is 
so easy to acquire sometimes. If one 
feels that there is some one handy to 
stand the racket, one is inclined to 
slither away one's time, fiddling with 
this and that and arriving nowhere. 

In the interval I received several im- 
pressions of New York that are hardly 
worth bothering about in the light of 
what came after. 

There was the toast at the hotel 
which produced indigestion and imme- 
diately explained why the clerk chewed 
gum; the ragtime that followed me 
everywhere: the dizzy height of the 
sky-scrapers; the " don't care a hang" 
attitude of the li ft-boys : the glare of 
Broadway at night, and a Mardi Gras 



730 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



crush at Coney Island, into which I 
was brutally inveigled by a traveling 
salesman, whom I met at the hotel and 
whom I lost, together with my hat, my 
hearing, and my dignity somewhere 
amid the confetti and the noise and the 
seething mob on Surf Avenue. 

I never saw the salesman again. 

There was also a colonel from one 
of the Carol inas, who helped me to- 
ward an understanding of the why and 
wherefore of the South's defeat. That 
I went to sleep in the middle of it did 
not matter. He woke me up and began 
all over again. 

However. Thursday morning came 
at last, and I remember whistling the 
" British Grenadiers " while I tubbed. 

The waiter at breakfast eyed me sus- 
piciously, because I smiled and did not 
ask him to take back the toast. 

But a head-line on the front page of 
my morning paper, and the news-matter 
that filled half the column below it, re- 
moved my cheerfulness slowly. It read : 
ROB ROY GANG PAYS ANOTHER CALL. 



CARD LEFT WITH J. F BERMAN OF YONKERS. 

$5,000 in Cash and Jewels Gone. No Explosives or Drills 
Used to Open Safe. Yonkers Police Fail 
to Find Trace of Thieves. 



It appeared that Mr. Berman's house 
had been entered the previous evening, 
and the safe, containing money and 
most of the family jewels, had been 
opened and ransacked. 

In the card-tray in the hall there was 
found a card with a border of red and 
black squares, bearing the words : 



FOR CHARITY 



For a little while I stared at the type 
with my mouth open, and at first I 
think I barely understood just what it 
meant. 

" Campbell a—" 



I didn't say it — hardly dared to 
think it. 

It seemed too ridiculous to be given 
a second thought. Yet I gave it a third 
and a fourth and a fifth and became 
more and more uncomfortable. 

The newspaper expressed small 
sympathy for Mr, Berman. and I 
thought the account of the matter was 
written in a rather facetious vein, 
vaguely suggesting between the lines 
that the loss sustained by the burglar- 
ized and apparently very frantic gentle- 
man represented about all he had ever 
subscribed — " for charity." 

Quite evidently, too, the Rob Roy 
Gang was a clever and renowned ag- 
gregation. Their depredations had 
created amusement for the masses, 
roused the anger of their victims, and 
demanded the respect of the police — 
the latter seeming to be unable to solve 
the mystery of the gang's existence and 
organization and identity. 

With something akin to awe, and 
feeling sure that ever)' one was watch- 
ing me. I left the breakfast-table, 
sneaked up to my room, and, finding 
the card Campbell had given me, tore it 
up into very small pieces and burned 
them in an ash-tray. 

Then 1 breathed more freely and 
looked forward to. meeting Campbell 
with an entirely new interest. For the 
world I would not have missed my ap- 
pointment with this American " five 
generations removed from Aberfoyle," 
where his forefathers had been " kings 
of men." 

Might it be that he was a descendant 
of the robber-chieftain of the Mac- 
Gregors. made famous by Sir Walter 
Scott. His build, and his truly strange 
use of the Scottish tongue, lent color to 
the surmise, hinting, at the same time, 
that he might be somewhat of a fanatic 
about his ancestors. 

My anxiety to become acquainted 
with Rollins was shoved into the back- 
ground, and as I went out I was so keen 
to talk to some one about it that I said 
to the clerk, as I handed him my key : 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



731 



" That Rob Roy Gang is quite an in- 
teresting company of thieves? " 

Tlie clerk smiled in a superior man- 
ner, hung my key upon the proper hook, 
and, coming back to me, declared in 
admiration : 

" They're the slickest bunch in New 
York when they get goin'. You'll find 
them workin' Westchester to-night, 
Montclair to-morrow, and Fifth Ave- 
nue the week after that. Any gezink 
they've got their mark on might as well 
cough up and save trouble." 

" Jove ! Do you know how they 
came to acquire their name? " 

" Sure. Some newspaperman fig- 
ured out that the red and black squares 
on the cards they leave behind when 
they clean out a guy was the Rob Roy 
tartan — you know — the stuff the 
Scotchies make kilts outa." 

" I see." 

And I imagined, as I left the hotel 
to keep my appointment at Campbell's 
club, that the police of New York 
would have paid handsomely for my 
vision. 



CHAPTER IV. 

ROLLINS. 

I have purposely refrained from 
giving the name of the club in which 
I met Campbell that morning. It is 
very select — a sort of American edi- 
tion of the Marlborough, minus the 
awful silence that hangs over the latter, 
with a perpetual funereal effect. Mem- 
bership in it constitutes the last word 
upon the question of a man's right to 
be acknowledged as being perfectly re- 
spectable, financially, socially, and 
morally. 

Campbell had breakfasted there. He 
came out of the dining-room as I en- 
tered the reception-hall ; and the cu- 
cumber can't be compared with him. 
It is cool in a chilly way, whereas 
Campbell's calm wasn't in the least ob- 
vious. It was so complete, so natural 
and easy, one did not notice it at all. 

The sight of him made it still more 



difficult to believe what I suspected. It 
was incongruous, inexplicable, and I 
was sure I should wake up presently. 

But even his generous crop of dark 
red hair seemed to substantiate the evi- 
dence 1 had against him. All he need- 
ed, I thought, was a beard of a similar 
hue. The picture of Scott's hero and 
the cattle-thief ancestor he claimed for 
his own would then be complete. 

His height and breadth seemed to 
lose some of their hugeness in the day- 
light, but he was still massive; and 
though his mouth and eyes and jaw all 
gave evidence of power of another 
order there was a wealth of sympathy 
and fellowship in his face. 

He greeted me with a smile and a 
" Good morning " that came rumbling 
from the depths of him, and his hand- 
shake was something to remember. 

It was I who was embarrassed and 
afraid as we met, and I who quaked 
as we entered the smoking-room and 
walked across the floor in the teeth of 
the few members in the room at that 
hour. But it was instantly apparent 
that my companion was a man of 
worth in clubdom. Almost every one 
in the place greeted him with the easy 
familiarity of old friends, and the 
studied " Good morning, sir," of men 
just sufficiently acquainted to be con- 
scious of one another's worth. 

As we passed a white - haired old 
gentleman he put his paper down and 
looked over the top of his glasses at 
Campbell, who saluted him sonorously. 

" Good morning, judge." 

" Good morning, Robert. Have you 
a minute ? " 

Asking my pardon and indicating 
where we would sit Campbell talked to 
the judge for a little while; and I 
watched him, pondering the irony of it. 

He appeared to be in a very good 
humor that morning, and though, when 
he rejoined me, he talked of nothing in 
particular. I listened very attentively in 
spite of the hundred and one things 
crowding upon my mind ; and, of 
course, I could hardly throw the Rob 
Roy Gang at his head in his own club. 



732 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Still rattling on in the same key, 
which was not loud enough to be heard 
by any one else, and with no hint of 
the Scotch accent, he said lightly ; 

" Judge Farquhar claims it will be 
two months to-morrow since I dined 
with him. His wife is a motherly soul, 
and adds an inch to my stature every 
time I call. So, you see. I really am 
quite respectable — up here. Rollins is 
just five minutes late, as usual." 

His glance went idly past me toward 
the door, and. sharply turning my 
head. I saw a lean- faced, clean-shaven 
man of medium height standing in the 
doorway, looking swiftly about him 
and nodding to several of the men, 
who, rather bruskly, I thought, took 
note of his arrival. 

As his eyes lighted upon Campbell 
and me. he came toward us with short, 
snappy steps and an apology forming 
on his tongue. Campbell rose and I 
followed suit, feeling a little chilly. 

Rollins is the only reason I can give 
for the sensation. 

Instantly I knew that he was small 
and probably mean. Some men have 
their character written upon them so 
plainly one can't make a mistake. 

Yet Rollins's face was not a bad one. 
The lines were good. There was some- 
thing of aristocracy in it — the aquiline 
nose and the broad forehead. The eyes 
and mouth, however, were a different 
combination — the latter was weak — 
the sort that lies easily: the former, 
shifty, with a hint of cruelty. 

He was sparely built and wore his 
clothes without ostentation — every- 
thing but his tie. It was a hideous 
tiling, out of all harmony with the rest 
of him ; and the only solution T have to 
offer for a man of his station wearing 
such atrocities is — that he must have 
been color-blind, and -would not admit 
it to his valet. 

His hair was tinged with gray, and 
there was a small round bald spot on 
the top of his head, but his carefully 
preserved countenance did not say that 
he was. as I learned later, within an 
ace of half a century. 



At once, without any hesitation, I 
disliked him, apart from the fact that 
I hated to think of him owning Did- 
derington ; and was quite sure, then and 
there, that I was not going to like his 
daughter any better — if ever we were 
introduced. 

" Sorry if I've kept you waiting," 
he began hurriedly, and I did not like 
the way his eyes skipped from place to 
place, as if he were afraid to look 
straight at me. 

I noted that Campbell and he did not 
shake hands, and for a moment or two, 
as I did not know how I was to be 
introduced, I felt horribly uncertain of 
^ where I stood. 

" Mr. Mason, permit me to intro- 
duce you to Mr. Rollins, the most con- 
firmed American-Englishman in the 
States." 

There was little humor in Campbell's 
deep tones, but I smiled and murmured 
the usual lie about being very glad, and 
so forth. I felt the pressure of Rol- 
lins's long, bony fingers about my own. 

Sometimes, lying awake at night, I 
feel that handshake and shiver. 

We sat down again, and when Camp- 
bell had ordered drinks we talked — or, 
at least, Campbell did — and I learned, 
before I had a chance to say anything 
on the matter, that I was a close friend 
of a man named Sysonsby. who had 
done him a service of some sort in 
Paris: and. apparently, he had prom- 
ised Sysonsby to make my short stay 
of a few weeks in New York as inter- 
esting as possible. 

All that — with no hesitancy what- 
ever. 

Rollins accepted the explanation 
without a question, and if I showed the 
effect of the prevarication in my face, 
it did not seem to matter. 

" Unfortunately, as I was just saying 
before Mr. Rollins came in," Campbell 
continued, seeming very apologetic, 
and. curiously enough, ignoring Rollins 
altogether. " I will require to go out of 
town a great deal in the next few 
weeks, but Mr. Rollins " — bowing to- 
ward that gentleman, yet looking past 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



733 



him — " who really knows how to en- 
tertain an Englishman " — bowing to- 
ward me and smiling — " very kindly 
offered yesterday afternoon, when 1 
told him of my plight, to give you a 
less lazy impression of New York than 
I would."' 

" Really that is — er — awfully good 
of yon, but — " I stammer ingly began in 
protest. 

" No, no, no — not at all," Rollins in- 
terrupted in that suave, quick way he 
had. " Mr. Campbell's friends are 
mine, and to prove it we shall all take 
dinner at Mrs. Van Huysen's this eve- 
ning, where you shall meet the whole 
family and be made thoroughly at home 
before Campbell leaves town. Mrs. 
Van Huysen is my sister, you know, 
and since my wife died my daughter 
and I, like poor relations, almost live 
there." 

He laughed and I tried to — Campbell 
refused to bother lying about his sen- 
sations. But he seemed to be waiting 
for my reply. 

I could not think of an excuse quick- 
ly enough, and then, being reminded 
of the opportunity to meet Sysonsby's 
" novelettishly beautiful " heroine, I 
thought I might as well see her. 

" Thanks. ' I shall lie very glad." 

Campbell rose so abruptly that I was 
startled. 

" Now — if you will pardon me rush- 
ing off like this I am sure I can leave 
you feeling certain that Mr. Rollins 
will take good care of you. I have an 
appointment down-town at eleven and 
must hurry. But I shall see you again 
this evening." 

W hile I struggled to say something 
appropriate he had seized my hand and 
was gone, ..with just a nod lor Rollins, 
who sat still and said : 

" All right, old man — I'll look after 
him." 

The whole thing happened so quickly 
I didn't have time to form an opinion, 
but I watched with mixed sensations 
the big man's red-topped head go out 
of the door, while Rollins, who did not 
seem to mind the fact that I was not 



listening to him, instantly began to talk 
of a naval review he had seen at Spit- 
head. 

That was only the beginning. He 
talked of the " green of Devon," of 
" British brawn," of England's wars, 
of her Colonies, of everything English 
under the sun. 

The chap was England-mad. He 
even grew sentimental about it, and 
when an American becomes wishy- 
washy about England he is not to be 
trusted. 

It did not seem to bother him in the 
least that I paid little or no attention to 
what he said. But then he did not look 
straight at me for two consecutive sec- 
onds in the two hours we sat there ; nor 
while at lunch, which I ate at his ex- 
pense. 

I was too busy trying to imagine 
where Campbell was leading me to, and 
as I watched Rollins fiddle with the 
cheese while he talked of Henley re- 
gatta I tried to picture him putting me 
out of Didderington Manor — and 
couldn't. 

The picture would not form. 

He said, as he signed the card, that 
he would show me New York as he 
knew it — but I was almost sure to be 
disappointed. 

" W hy, even our slums haven't ex- 
isted long enough to be interesting. 
They have no history, and who wants 
to bother with filth alone? But we'll 
go down to Chinatown some evening, 
and then possibly to a place I know, in 
a supposedly dangerous section, called 
' Hell's Kitchen.' 

" The name is much more lurid than 
the district. Lots of people say it's 
worse than W'hitechapel — but that's 
rubbish. At any rate, you shall see it 
for yourself and draw your own con- 
clusions." 

I looked across the table at him and 
found his eyes elsewhere. 

Yet I said I should be glad to. and 
on the way to my hotel tried to explain 
why I had been so foolish and why 
Rollins had seemed so pleased. 

Knowing what I did of Whitechapel, 



734 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



he was among the last men in the world 
with whom I should venture into any- 
thing resembling it. 

CHAPTER V. 

A DISAPPOINTING EVENING. 

The Van Huysen residence was on 

th Street, a few doors east of 

Fifth Avenue — which is to say, that it 
was among the elite of New York's 
private dwellings. 

It was not a pretentious-looking 
place, and its interior leaned more to- 
ward the cozy than the esthetic. 

I can't describe house-furnishings. 
When I enter a room I take the fur- 
niture for granted. Sometimes, if I've 
been there more than once. I learn that 
a particular chair is more comfortable 
than the others, but I do not mentally 
catalogue the hangings and bric-a-brac, 
or make any fine distinctions between 
the Heppelwhite. Sheraton or modern 
designs in the tallies and chairs and the 
rest of the usual things with which 
people fill their houses. 

The moment I entered the Van Huy- 
sen establishment I was conscious of a 
homelike warmth. For one thing, I was 
not confronted with the rather preva- 
lent Westminster Abbey Poets' Corner 
effect in the hall — the only evidence of 
hero-worship being a bust of Goethe 
upon a pedestal in an out-of-the-way 
comer made by the curve of the stair- 
case, where the dead-white of the great 
Teuton's Parian marble countenance 
was subdued by shadows. 

Even the bronze female figure 
crouching in the center of a circular 
fountain spray looked comfortable, and 
the English butler, with his nationality 
written clearly upon him, made me feel 
still more at home — that is — for a 
second. 

Then he walked a step or two and — 
limped. 

Every one will admit that a limping 
butler is a novelty. That fellow's right 
heel appeared to trail behind after the 
rest of him had gone on, and all 



through dinner I tried to remember 
wbere the deuce I had seen a butler 
limp just like that before! 

It wasn't a bit of use. I could not 
place the chap at all, but I had a dis- 
agreeable suspicion that he had recog- 
nized me. 

His face did not indicate that he had, 
but that was the sort of butler he was. 
I imagined he would report the arrival 
of the millennium in the same dead 
tones in which he announced " Mr. 
Mason." 

He spoiled my dinner, and the Rol- 
lins-Van Huysen families unconscious- 
ly assisted him. With Rollins added, 
they were the group I had seen on the 
Randania. 

Airs. Van Huysen was a charming 
woman, and her daughter Alice was a 
reproduction of the mother — almost 
line for line, gesture for gesture. 

The girl's gray eyes held the same 
quiet, purposeful expression in them, 
with the same hint of humor lurking 
behind it, and the mouth and chin 
showed the same quality of determina- 
tion, without appearing in the least 
hard or unsympathetic. 

Her brother Ralph was her an- 
tithesis, being neither quiet nor pur- 
poseful nor humorous. His mouth and 
chin were weak, like Rollins's, and his 
eyes had a silly sort of habit of travel- 
ing ceilingward while he talked. 

Slightly under seventy inches, I 
judged by his flabby, anemic appear- 
ance that he did not care much for 
athletics. 

Campbell told me afterward that he 
had been " sent down " from Harvard . 
for something or other which wasn't 
made public. I felt sorry for him — at 
the same time I thought I would rather 
enjoy taking hinr^nto the " gym " and 
hammering a little life into him. 

But Miss Rollins — and here you are 
possibly going to be disappointed — was 
still more lifeless. 

I think I have previously said that 
she was prettier than her cousin Alice 
— but I'm afraid I can't describe her 
as she appeared to me that night with- 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



735 



out referring to her lack-luster expres- 
sion, as if she had not a particle of 
interest in life but the wearing of pretty 
clothes and the preserving of a truly 
wonderful complexion. 

Her dull gold hair, arranged in a 
carefuliy careless fashion, detracted 
nothing from the girlishness of her 
small oval face. The eyebrows were 
several shades darker than the hair, and 
her eyes, so deep a brown as to be al- 
most black, would have been most at- 
tractive and appealing if they had not 
been so devoid of activity. 

But there was an indefinable some- 
thing in them at times that made mc 
wonder if the lackadaisical attitude was 
not a clever affectation. I imagined 
that Miss Margaret Rollins would have 
given several years of her young life 
to get up from that table and run — 
anywhere away from it. 

She made only a pretense of eating, 
and when I caught her looking at me 
through some flowers that obscured a 
perfect view, I had an impression that 
for some reason or other she was 
weighing me in the balance, and was 
fearful of being detected in it. not by 
me so much as by some of the others. 

Not once did she speak all the while 
\\c sat at table. 

It was rather a nervous affair for 
me. and I'm afraid I was stupid in 
some of my remarks, but Campbell car- 
ried the burden of protecting me from 
danger-line subjects, such as the trip 
over and the people my hostess thought 
we both might know, and Rollins, 
peculiarly enough, seemed anxious to 
assist him. 

Campbell laughed the voyage away 
with a joke at my expense. He ad- 
mitted that I had been on board the 
Randania and that lie had known of it, 
but I was such a wretched sailor I 
hadn't left my cabin, and had begged 
to be excused from meeting any one 
until I'd got ashore. 

Appearing not to take any heed of 
Miss Rollins's rather sneaking scrutiny, 
but to listen very attentively to some- 
thing her father was saying about being 



disturbed on board ship only when the 
screw got out of the water, I had a 
peculiar notion that his daughter did 
not believe Campbell's story about me. 

I could not understand that girl. One 
moment she was bright with even a sug- 
gestion of deviltry and shrewdness 
hiding behind the screen her doll-like 
beauty made ; then she would cast a 
sidelong questioning glance toward her 
father, as if she were afraid he might 
be watching her, and the mask of 
lethargic indifference would fall again. 

Campbell's personality, of course, 
dominated the whole table, but I could 
not help thinking that Alice was just a 
little too transparent in her efforts to 
avoid such remarks as he directed 
to her. 

I had a strange jumble of impres- 
sions that night, and later, when we 
joined the ladies in the drawing-room, 
I received a few more. 

Rollins and I — because Rollins 
seemed afraid to leave me for a moment 
— entertained (?) Mrs. Van Huysen 
with a list of places which he thought 
would be of interest to an Englishman. 

Out of the corner of my eye I 
watched Ralph inveigle his cousin — 
and fiancee — out of the room to where 
I surmised the conservatory ought 
to be. 

Upon a settee, just far enough dis- 
tant to prevent what they said being 
heard, Campbell and Alice also con- 
versed in low tones; and, judging by 
the girl's attitude, I felt that their con- 
versation would make interesting read- 
ing. 

She was leaning away from him, as 
if she were not very anxious to hear 
what he was saying, and because 
she had to listen, tried to assume an 
air of careless unconcern not altogether 
successful since I. whose perspicacity 
isn't "Anything to make a fuss about, 
could see that she was not finding 
Campbell's remarks very pleasant. 

Just as I threatened to become rude 
in my lack of attention to her mother, 
Alice rose abruptly and came to- 
ward us. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



736 

Campbell did not follow her. Get- 
ting leisurely upon his feet and walking 
toward the portiered entrance of an- 
other room, he announced basso pro- 
fitndo, so that we all turned our heads : 

" I am going to have some music to 
soothe ray savage soul. When the pain 
becomes too intense let me know." 

Parting and throwing back the hang- 
ings, revealing the music-room bathed 
in subdued 'light, Campbell twirled the 
seat of the stool before a grand piano 
low enough to suit him, and instantly 
roused the instrument into the activity 
of a popular waltz. 

Mrs. Van Huysen smiled in motherly 
approval, glanced questioningly up into 
her daughter's face, and — as I did — 
found it a little pale. 

Rollins was saying something or 
other about the opera, but I did not 
hear it very clearly. I was trying to do 
too many things at once— to be atten- 
tive to my hostess, to explain the tight- 
ening of Alice's lips and the manner in 
which she avoided her mother's silent 
interrogation — and to realize that the 
man at the piano, the respected club- 
member and the much-admired, much- 
at-home representative of a great city's 
most select circle was connected in 
some way with the active management 
of a clever and notorious company of 
thieves. 

It was truly unbelievable. 

Then he sang. He had a remarkable 
voice, and. unlike most amateurs, knew 
how to use it. 

But Alice did not seem to care for it 
very much. Murmuring an apology, 
she left the room just as Ralph and 
Margaret came trailing in again to 
clump down upon the settee Campbell 
and Alice had vacated; and for the re- 
mainder of the evening the " children " 
showed little signs of animation. 

Altogether they were a curious group 
of people. 

Had I been actually in search of 
romance, which of course I wasn't, 
that somewhat aimless evening would 
surely have suggested to me the ad- 
visability of looking elsewhere or of 



taking the first steamer home again; 
particularly in view of the fact that 
the lady in Sysonsby's " novel " did 
not come up to the specifications. 

She was " ravishingly beautiful" 
enough — no doubt about that — but I 
left the house feeling that I had been 
imposed upon all around. 

I declined Rollins's offer to drive 
me to my hotel, saying I would rather 
walk since the night was so fine. 

Campbell . went off in a hurry — to 
catch a train for somewhere. So I 
set out alone, digging my hands into 
my overcoat-pockets, trying to gage 
the extent of my disappointment and 
the importance of the limping butler. 

And my right hand got hold of a. 
letter — a letter that hadn't been there 
when T went to the Van Huysens'! 

I pulled the thing out under the 
light of the first lamp-post and read 
the superscription upon a fairly good 
business envelope. 

This is it : 

To the Eafl of Didderington, 
New York. 

CHAPTER VI. 

AT GRANT'S TOMB. 

I knew it was from the butler. 

My first thought was that he had 
not dallied in letting me know that I 
was " discovered " ; and then I felt 
rather indignant with him for his 
confounded impertinence in taking lib- 
erties with my coat-pockets. 

T did not open the letter, however, 
until I reached my rooms. But I did 
not saunter, as I had intended. Per- 
spiring uncomfortably, and with the 
door of my sitting-room carefully 
locked, I glanced at the superscription 
again, slit the envelope, and, pulling 
forth a half sheet of cream - colored 
note-paper, read : 

At Grant's Tomb Saturday night at 
nine. Taxi. Don't fail. 

That was all — not even an initial 
attached to it. The writing, firm and 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



737 



bold, was unquestionably masculine, 
but the construction of the invitation 
struck me as being somewhat peculiar 
— for a butler. Either the gentleman 
with the limp was an impudent beg- 
gar or I was guessing wrong. 

I lay awake most of the night puz- 
zling over the matter, and it is suffi- 
cient to say that I arrived nowhere — 
not even in a continued effort to re- 
member where I had seen the butler 
before. 

The man's face was not at all fa- 
miliar — just his rather odd limp. I 
awoke next morning still in the dark 
about him and in a wretched humor. 

There was no music in my soul 
while I tubbed that morning. 

Sysonsby's dream had gone to the 
dickens ; Campbell was too uncertain 
a quantity to rely upon, and his pe- 
culiar action in tying me to Rollins's 
coat-tails irritated me. I detested 
mystery. 

The police, according to that morn- 
ing's paper, were quite at sea regard- 
ing the Berman robbery, and New 
York was told by Yonkexs to keep its 
gangsters to itself. Some people 
wrote letters about it: indignant, amu- 
sing, critical. But they didn't teach 
me anything. 

Rollins was to call for me in his car 
at ten. and I would have enjoyed 
sending down word that I was not at 
home had it not been for the fact that 
I had nothing better to do and thought 
I might as well suffer him for a day 
or two just to see if anything worth 
while would happen. 

His intention for that morning was 
to have me compare the Metropolitan 
Museum with the National Gallery. 

I did not know whether we had any- 
thing resembling Grant's Tomb or 
not, but as I dressed I made up my 
mind that our itinerary for that day 
should embrace it. To me, at that 
stage of my acquaintance with New 
York, a tomb sounded rather funereal 
as a rendezvous, and I thought I 
would like to look it and its surround- 
ings over in the daylight before I 

2 S 



should decide whether or not to ac- 
cept the anonymous invitation. 

When Rollins called I thought he 
was disgustingly pleasant. He 
gushed, and a woman who does that 
is bad enough. I insinuated that I 
would like to see Grant's Tomb,, and 
he declared at once that my sugges- 
tion was splendid, and added : 

" Riverside Drive has been com- 
pared favorably by a few as being the 
equal of if not an improvement upon 
the Embankment; but" — with a 
smile that pitied the critics referred 
to — " of course we know better., just 
as we know that cricket is a much 
more gentlemanly game than base- 
ball." 

I did not know anything about it 
then — baseball, I mean — and I have 
always been very fond of cricket, so I 
did not argue the point. 

I had the good fortune, however, to 
see a World's Series game last year, 
and Jove! it was a scorcher! In the 
seventh inning the — but I mustn't do 
that sort of thing. I am not a base- 
ball reporter : and since you can read 
a guide-book of New York anywhere, 
at any time, you will please take the 
Metropolitan Museum of Art, et 
cetera, ct cetera, for granted. 

Rqjlins clung to me like a leech, 
hustling me about for all the world 
like a Cook's tourist, till I had given 
up hope of being able to get rid of 
him, so that I might have a chance to 
satisfy myself upon the authorship of 
the mysterious note. 

About six-thirty on Saturday eve- 
ning, seated in his car, we were cross- 
ing the East River in a ferryboat to 
Thirty-Fourth Street on our return 
from some aviation trials at Mineola, 
Long Island. 

Rollins had lapsed into silence, and 
as I was considering how I could tell 
him that I should like very much to 
be alone that evening, he surprised me 
by becoming suddenly apologetic — be- 
cause he found it impossible to dine 
with me! 

" I got a telegram this morning," 



738 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



he explained, " from a very old busi- 
ness friend of mine. We became 
members of the Stock Exchange about 
the same time, and many of our in- 
terests have been affiliated ever since. 
He is coming in from the West to- 
night—probably is at his hotel now, 
and though I've been trying to think 
up an excuse all day, I'm afraid I 
can't get out of it. I'm awfully 
sorry — " 

"Oh, that's all right," I assured 
him. " No doubt I'll manage to 
amuse myself in some way." 

So we both laughed, and lied our 
way to freedom from each other for 
one evening; Rollins evidently as se- 
cretly anxious as I. The " old friend 
from the West " story sounded so 
very much like the " friend just home 
from India," that I was extremely 
skeptical about it; but I was not satis- 
fied that everything was to be all right 
until he dropped me at my hotel and 
left me there. 

Then I felt at liberty to turn my 
thoughts without restraint toward 
Grant's Tomb. 

I would have liked very much to 
have been able to discuss the thing 
with Campbell, and was not at all sure, 
when I started out at quarter past 
eight, that I would actually meet the 
butler. The fellow was not so dread- 
fully important so far as I could see; 
but, of course, I wanted to be on the 
spot to confirm my surmise that he 
had really written the note. 

Grant's Tomb, as every American 
knows, is situated upon the loftiest 
rise of Riverside Park, overlooking the 
Hudson River. Sightseeing cars or a 
Fifth Avenue bus will take you there, 
and you will find that the magnificent 
resting-place for a magnificent man 
occupies the center of a generous 
space ; and possibly your bus may not 
go any farther, but will sweep round 
the broad driveway encircling the 
tomb and go off down-town again. 

The taxi referred to in the note 
would necessarily require to do the 
same thing: that is, approach the tomb 



from down-town upon the driveway 
on the right, and make the circle to re- 
turn. 

There is a constant stream of cars 
passing to and fro, and not a little pe- 
destrian traffic, if the evening is fine. 
The flare of electric lamps lights up 
the main drive, but beyond it there is 
plenty of shadow, and the seats strung 
along the sidewalk, close to the park 
rail, are usually occupied — two people 
upon each seat. 

The Hudson, lapping the foot of 
the park's gentle slope, and dotted 
with the bobbing lights of miscel- 
laneous craft, rolls on in broad maj- 
esty to the sea. Across the water the 
Jersey shore winks at fitful distances; 
and as I waited, watching for a taxi 
that would show signs of having the 
tomb for its destination, the search- 
light from an Albany boat swept over 
the scene in a ghostly fashion. 

Several of the people occupying 
seats in the shadows were startled into 
more decorous attitudes, and I caught 
sight of a taxi that had just trundled 
past, break from the common stream 
and turn to encircle the rendezvous. 

I made no effort at concealment, 
and I had decided, on the run up- 
town, not to be bothered with any in- 
solence or hints of blackmail, or any- 
thing in fact, but an explanation as to 
where I had seen that limp before. 
Then I would send the chap home 
with a little advice upon the value of 
silence, which he would preserve un- 
less he wished to have his head 
punched. 

Thus I was mentally and physically 
quite prepared for him when the taxi, 
with other eyes than mine upon it. 
drew into the curb. 

Approaching it without hesitation I 
stood waiting for the butler to get out. 

He did not get out ; nor did the 
chauffeur leave his seat. 

I began to think I had made a mis- 
take and some audible, though not in- 
telligible comment from the seats be- 
hind me hinted that I was making an 
ass of myself. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



739 



But I took a step nearer to make 
sure, and as I did so the occupant of 
the taxi leaned forward. 

Margaret Rollins! 



CHAPTER VII. 

ARRANGING THINGS. 

A movement of her hand beckoned 
me to get into the taxi and to be quick 
about it. 

It was no time or place for argu- 
ment. 

I obeyed. 

The girl was alone: not in the least 
frightened or apologetic, and while I 
was vainly searching for something 
to say, she remarked as the cab moved 
out from the curb. 

" Before we let the taximeter regis- 
ter any more miles against us perhaps 
I'd better be sure that you have enough 
money to pay for it ! " 

It is useless to attempt to explain 
how I felt. 1 was too limp and sur- 
prised to finely analyze sensations. 

The Miss Rollins I had met a few 
evenings before had departed com- 
pletely. By my side — too near me in 
fact to be quite fair to any man — sat 
a new creation. 

She was beautiful and vivacious, 
and entirely self-possessed. Her eyes 
sparkled with the joy of life and free- 
dom, and I knew that she was laugh- 
ing at me quietly within. 

" You see,'"* she explained. " I didn't 
have time to bother about money. 
When I fainted at Aunt Alice's — " 

" Fainted ! " 

"Yes: I faint beautifully, and 
Cousin Alice was sent home with me 
in their car. Papa has an apartment 
on Central Park West, not far from 
Mr. Campbell. . Of course you know 
that papa is not at home to-night, don't 
you? " 

" Er — yes — I believe he said some- 
thing about getting a telegram from a 
friend this morning — " 

A peculiarly bright smile interrupt- 
ed me. 



" Papa isn't always truthful. He 
fibs outrageously sometimes. He had 
a visit from that friend on Monday, 
and that's one reason why I'm here 
shocking you so very much. Please 
don't let's waste time discussing how 
unconventional this is. I'm tired of 
conventional things, anyway. You 
look as if you were afraid of me." 

I was. But I sat up a little straighter 
and tried to refute the charge. 

"No — I'm just a bit startled. It 
isn't right, you know, and you are so 
— er — so different. Altogether (lif- 
erent. On Thursday you looked per- 
fectly harmless. How did you pene- 
trate my disguise ? " 

She shook her head slowly. 

" Can't answer." 

" Any other member of the family 
group guessed it?". 

" Alice. She put that letter in your 
coat-pocket and helped me to faint and 
get away from her mother. After 
that the rest was easy, except that I 
haven't any money." 

She seemed to doubt very much if 
I would have enough. 

*' I think I can manage that," I an- 
swered her. " Now, let's have the ex- 
planation." 

" Yes, let's," she agreed, and stopped 
there expectantly. 

'"Well — er — that is — what is it?" 
I stammered when the pause was be- 
coming awkward. 

Isn't that rather your affair than 
mine? " 

" My — my affair? " 

I met the quiet, interrogative look 
she gave me blankly. 

" Why — yes. I have seen and ap- 
prove of you, and I know you're not 
one-half as stupid as you are trying to 
appear. So please get the proposal 
over and done with, and then we'll talk 
business. Don't get down on your 
knees, though. The floor's dirty." 

We were still somewhere on River- 
side Drive, but mentally I was in pitch- 
darkness, gasping for air. 

" Pro-posal ! " 

She laughed at me openly now. 



740 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



'* Don't be frightened. There is 
nothing very dreadful in asking me to 
marry you, is there? I don't bite or 
scratch, and I won't say no; and if we 
don't live happily ever after it will be 
your fault. Now — go ahead." 

The fog cleared suddenly, and I 
joined her in her laughter. 

"Oh, yes, of course I forgot! I 
came over here to be romantic. I 
didn't think the story was common 
property, though. But. anyway, what's 
the use? Cousin Ralph — " 

" Doesn't count," the' girl interrupt- 
ed, almost sharply. " We won't dis- 
cuss him at all, please. If he were 
worth discussion I wouldn't be here 
asking you to propose to me. 

" You needn't say you love me or 
anything like that. Just ask me if I 
will marry you. and I'll say ' Yes ' — 
and then we'll talk about papa and his 
friend." 

" I — I see. But — I'm afraid I — er 
— don't catch your point of view. This 
is so sudden, as it were, and as I've 
never proposed to any one in my life 
before, 1 — " 

Her fingers suddenly gripped my 
coat-sleeve. 

"You haven't?" 

There was a sort of hungry eager- 
ness in her eyes and voice. 

" Not once. What does a chap say, 
as a rule? " 

Her scrutiny became much keener, 
and she seemed afraid that she would 
find in my face the hint of a lie. 

" Then — will you — .please — marry 
me r 

It was barely a whisper. A soft 
flush spread over her cheeks, but her 
eyes did not waver. I felt rather 
queer, as if we had gone deeper than 
was intended ; and for a moment or 
two I just looked steadily down at her. 
wondering how seriously I was sup- 
posed to take her. 

" Is that by way of instruction or — " 

" Will you? " ' 

Her fingers slid from my sleeve to 
my hand, and the grip of them was not 
to be ridiculed. 



" Let me say it? " I suggested slow- 
ly, and her expression instantly be- 
came less strained. " Do you want — 
to marry me? " 

" Yes." 

"Why?" 

" Because if I don't marry you I'll 
have to marry Ralph — and I prefer 
you." 

" Urn — I see. And can't you refuse 
to marry Ralph? " 

" Papa won't let me refuse. He ar- 
ranged my marriage five or six years 
ago. and has never given me a chance 
to talk to any other man. He fright- 
ens me sometimes with the things he 
says, and I know I'll never be able to 
defy him properly unless I marry some 
one who isn't afraid of him. You're 
not afraid of him, are you? " 

" No — I don't think so. But are 
you sure there isn't some one else you 
know better than you do me — some 
one you possibly — er — like better ? 
Marriage is a very serious business." 

" I know it is. That's why I don't 
want to marry Ralph." 

" Have you told him so? " 

" Often — but he won't believe me. 
You see, he thinks he loves me; and 
he's a selfish little beast — " 

" Good Heavens ! " 

" Yes — I mean it. He only thinks 
of me between the splurges he takes. 
I'm his cousin, and it's on the cards 
that I'm going to marry him. so he 
doesn't have to bother about being a 
gentleman. That's his attitude — and 
I'll have to go through with the horri- 
ble thing next June if some one doesn't 
run away with me in the interval. 

" It's useless to say no to papa, and 
it's worse than useless to run away 
alone. He'd only find me and bring 
me back again — and — and torture me 
a little more." 

" Torture you ! " 

"No — I didn't mean that. Please 
don't be inquisitive. I'm just afraid 
of him, that's all. I've tried to fight 
him ; but I can't, and I know that the 
only way out is to marry some one — 
else. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



741 



We— I mean — I knew you were 
coming over to see if — if I were — nice 
enough — to marry, and when I saw 
what a vast improvement you were 
upon Ralph I thought perhaps — well — 
you* re to be here such a short time and 
— and I was afraid — " 

She stopped and put it another way : 
" Do you think I'm marriageable? " 

That was pointblank enough. I was 
becoming rather chary, too, about 
meeting her eyes, and I hadn't the 
courage to tell her that her information 
about the length and the purpose of my 
visit to America was all wrong. 

"Yes — I must confess you are — 
marriageable."' I admitted' honestly 
enough. " But — er — that is — does 
Cousin Alice know about all this?" 

" She knows my intentions, but she 
doesn't approve of my methods. 
They're all my own. and I'm not go- 
ing to make any apologies for them. 
Can't you see how desperate I am ? " 

" Yes, a little. But you don't know 
anything about me. You may just get 
out of the frying-pan into the lire. I 
may have a beastly temper — " 

" Can't be any worse than papa's," 
she interrupted with conviction. "And 
I wouldn't be afraid of you." 

" No, I don't think you would. But 
you might get awfully tired of seeing 
me about the place and — " 

" Not nearly so tired as I am of 
Ralph already, and we're not married 
yet. Please don't make excuses. You 
couldn't make me half so miserable as 
I am now if you tried ever so hard — 
and — and — Would it be so awfully 
difficult to — like me? " 

I cleared my throat and looked out 
of the taxi window. We were still on 
the drive. 

" Does his nibs know where, to go ? " 
I asked, turning to face the music 
again. 

"Yes — he knows, and we're not 
nearly there yet. I believe you want 
to run away. Do you ? " 

" No — no — nothing of the sort," I 
protested. " I'm enjoying myself im- 
mensely. You said that after I had 



proposed and you had accepted me we 
could talk business. Hadn't we better 
talk business first ? I mean — my busi- 
ness. 

" It is quite proper, you know, in ar- 
rangements of this sort, for the penni- 
less earl to declare just how penniless 
he is, and I'm afraid I couldn't afford 
to support a wife. You'd be tied for 
life to a chap whose earning power 
per week would probably be less than 
this taxi will cost." 

A queer smile parted her lips. She 
looked beyond me and her immediate 
surroundings, and seemed to contem- 
plate something that gave her an un- 
holy joy. 

" Yes — and papa would be terribly 
angry, too. if I married you. I think 
that's why — I want to." 

That made me gasp and stare, and 
before I had time to draw breath she 
asked simply: 

" Did you ever hear of — Bob Dol- 
liver?" 

" Wh-what — " I stopped and re- 
garded her for fully a minute in the 
blankest sort of amazement. But she 
was looking dreamily out of the cab- 
window, not paying the slightest at- 
tention to me. 

" Never mind how I know," she 
went on. still looking past me. " He 
ran off with Lady Alice Didderington 
and very little more than this taxi will 
cost. He was only a lodgekeeper's 
son. You are an earl — educated at 
•Eton and Cambridge — I know because 
I looked you up — and I'll have a quar- 
ter of a million of my own — " 

" Which doesn't interest me," I in- 
terrupted, probably more sharply than 
I intended. " Won't you tell me how 
you came to know anything about 
Lady—" 

" No. Can't answer any questions 
• — but one. And you haven't asked 
that yet." 

I laughed in spite of my chagrin. 

" Well, the point is, I can't support 
a wife, and I haven't the least inten- 
tion of having a wife support me. I 
came over here — and I might as well 



742 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



be frank with you — with five thou- 
sand dollars in the hope that I could 
make it fifty thousand inside of six 
months. But I suppose I'm an ass. I 
haven't the faintest idea of where to 
begin, and I've wasted one precious 
week already bothering with — " 

I stopped, finding two brown eyes 
widely attentive, with a look in them 
suggesting that their owner did not 
believe her ears. 

" You — you have — five thousand ! 
In ready cash ? " 

" Well — say — forty-five hundred 
now. Why?" 

" Wait. I want to think a minute. 
It's too splendid for anything!" And 
she thought a second or two. " If I 
tell you how you can turn that money 
into — oh — ever and ever so much more 
— will you — " 

Her fingers closed about my own 
again almost fiercely. I couldn't laugh. 
She was so terribly serious about it. 

"That's bribery." I told her, and 
wondered why my voice was so quiet. 

"Well, can't you like me? I think 
I want you to very much. You're so 
different from Ralph and — and lots of 
others I've seen, and I thought it would 
be splendid if you and I could make 
a lot of money together right under 
papa's nose and run off with it — like 
Bob Dolliver and Lady Alice." 

Somehow I got hold of her other 
hand. I don't know just how it hap- 
pened ; but there we sat, holding hands 
and looking at each other, coming to 
an eye - to - eye understanding about 
things, while the lights upon either 
side of us went jogging past. That 
chauffeur knew his business. 

Then Margaret smiled and the silent 
spell was broken. 

" I am not a marrying man," I said. 

" Rubbish ! I think you'd be very, 
very good to anybody you liked." 

" Thank you. And you are really 
willing to take the awful chance? " 

" Yes." No bones about that mon- 
osyllable. 

" All right. I'll tell you what we'll 
do." 



" Yes? " 

I think she came a little nearer 
to me. 

" I am to be here at least six months. 
If at the end of that time I've made 
any money, and you still feel inclined 
to faint well enough to get away from 
wherever you are, so as to be able to 
meet me at Grant's Tomb in a taxi 
without any money — we'll purchase a 
license and hunt up a minister. How's 
that? " 

" We don't need a license in New 
York State — just the minister," she 
advised thoughtfully; and such was 
the case at the time. 

" October, November, December, 
January, February, March," she re- 
peated, loosening her grip upon my 
hand to count the months off on her 
fingers. " Urn — no — I don't care for 
March much. Let's make it December 
— that's three months — and have a 
Christmassy atmosphere. I think that's 
long enough — don't you ? " 

I wasn't sure, and I suppose my ex- 
pression said so. 

" Just think," she suggested, and 
watched my face closely, " I've got to 
play engaged to Ralph all that time ! " 

That startled me. More than that — 
it hurt ! 

" Yes, I suppose you must," I 
agreed. " And that isn't very pleasant, 
is it ? But suppose we do make it three 
months — what are we going to live 
on? We haven't even the usual ex- 
cuse that love will find a way." 

She looked up quickly. 

" Haven't we? I think we have if 
we're not afraid. Listen! " 

Our hands came together again by 
the merest accident, and while the taxi 
rattled on. Margaret told me the story 
of papa and papa's friend. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

A BRA W NICHT. 

If a man can't talk safely behind 
closed doors in his own house, where 
on earth can he do so? 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



743 



Fapa had taken his friend into the 
library, closing the door very tightly; 
but didn't think about the door leading 
from the library into the music-room. 
It looked closed, so it is to be sup- 
posed that he did not bother about it. 

Toward the end of the interview, 
when his friend said a little excitedly, 
" We can send it up to five hundred if 
we want to/' papa seemed to think of 
the door leading to the music-room, 
and. tiptoeing to it. discovered that it 
was not as tightly shut as he had 
imagined. 

Throwing it open suddenly, he found 
Margaret looking lazily up at him from 
a copy of the libretto of the " Pirates 
of Penzance/' 

" What is it, papa? " she asked, and 
appeared so innocent and disinterested 
that papa really did not know what it 
was. 

" Nothing — oh, nothing at all/' he 
said very fidgety, at the cross-roads of 
doubt and fear and anger. " But T 
think you had better go to your room." 

It was too late then, however, even 
though papa actually thought his 
daughter too unsophisticated to know 
the meaning of a " corner on Pand 
Island." Perhaps he imagined that 
her young mind would conceive it to 
be an acre or so of land. But it 
didn't. 

Not only did she know what a " cor- 
ner " meant, but also what it meant 
to be "caught short fifty thousand." 
She hadn't been papa's daughter for 
eighteen years for nothing. 

It was such a simple little corner, 
too. 

The total issue of Pand Island stock 
was two hundred thousand shares. 
Papa and his friend had quietly ac- 
cumulated one hundred and five 
thousand, fifty thousand of which their 
victim had sold short in three months 
at a rising price of from fifty to eighty. 
One man in San Francisco held fifty 
thousand, but those were too far away 
to be troublesome at a day's notice. 

The balance was scattered over the 
country at large, and papa and his 



friend were gathering in everything 
that lay near enough to New York to 
be useful — probably ten thousand or 
so. Like the San Francisco lot, and 
for the same reason, the remainder was 
not dangerous enough to . bother 
about. 

The victim's name was not men-- 
tioned, but it was the laudable inten- 
tion of papa and his friend to reduce 
his bank account considerably, if not 
actually relegate him to New Street — 
which is to say, break him. 

On Wednesday of the following 
week they would proceed to buy him 
in. bidding the stock up and up and up, 
knowing very well that almost every 
share that could possibly be bought for 
delivery the following day was in their 
possession. 

All that did Margaret gather from 
the libretto of the " Pirates of Pen- 
zance " ; papa's friend having a stac- 
cato voice which would not suffer much 
modulation and a habit of repeating 
himself as if he were afraid he would 
not be properly understood.. 

When Margaret went to her room 
she arranged the facts and figures nice- 
ly upon a sheet of paper so that she 
would not jumble them up afterward. 

At a " conservative " estimate, the 
stock would go u]) to two hundred — 
and the victim would enrich papa and 
his friend six or seven millions! 

The cab was circling Central Park 
by that time. How it got there I don't 
know, because I hadn't been paying 
particular attention. Margaret's cheeks 
were a little flushed and a wayward 
strand of her hair tickled my chin. I 
didn't mind. 

" That is very interesting." I de- 
clared when the story ended. " How 
much could I make with fortv-five 
hundred?" 

" Oh — lots — but I want to make 
something, too. Not for "me — for us. 
We're in partnership." 

" I see. That sounds rather pleas- 
ant, but you mustn't include the quarter 
of a million you threw at my head a 
little while as^o." 



744 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" I can't — because I can't touch it 
till I'm twenty-one. Mama left it to 
me. I haven't much ready cash, and I 
don't want to use what I have got be- 
cause I think papa looks at my check- 
book every day on the sly. The only 
thing I can do is to raise loans on my 
rings and things — " 

"Wh-what! Great guns, child, 
wherever did you — " 

" You're silly," she interrupted gen- 
tly, creeping a little nearer to me and 
softly laughing my horror away. 
" Why shouldn't I ? It would only be 
for a few days, and I could stay in 
bed with the shivers or something, so 
that I wouldn't have to wear them, and 
nobody would know they were gone. 
I'm sure you could raise forty-five hun- 
dred on my pendant and necklace 
alone." 

" I— could ? " 

She nodded in the most matter-of- 
fact way in the world. 

" I'm going to send them round to 
you to-morrow when papa is out. And 
on Monday morning about ten o'clock, 
because it's quieter then, you'll go to 
Nospim's with them and get them to 
loan you all you can. 

" Then on Thursday morning you'll 
get them out again. That isn't diffi- 
cult. Just think of me having to stay 
in bed, pretending. I'm terribly ill and 
having to take all kinds of stupid, 
nasty medicines ! " 

I didn't say anything — just looked : 
and we studied each other for a minute 
or two. I got the worst of it. No 
man ever conflicted with eyes like those 
and got off scathless. 

" Now that's settled." she announced 
with a triumphant little smile. " And 
we are near the place where you must 
get out. When you do, don't say good- 
by to me or anything. Just pay the 
chauffeur and walk away. He knows 
where to go." 

" Tove ! You've got the whole busi- 
ness down to a very fine science." 

"Have I?" Her mouth twisted 
queerly 'twixt a smile and a tear. 
" You see, I was desperate — and ne- 



cessity, you know? You don't think 
I'm terribly brazen, do you?" 

" No — no, of course not. I rather 
like it." 

" Honestly ? " 

Her hand strayed to the lapel of my 
coat in a proprietary sort of way, and 
I imagined she was a lonely little soul. 

" Yes, I'm quite certain of it. Were 
you not just a little afraid? " 

She glanced up quickly in surprise. 

"Of you? No. not a bit. I think 
you have the kindest face of any man 
I ever met." 

That settled it. No one had ever 
said anything quite so nice as that to 
me before. She owned me from that 
moment ; and I would have given much 
to have had Sysonsby hear her say it. 
But it embarrassed me, and, to change 
the subject, I asked: 

" Where did your aunt get that limp- 
ing butler?" 

"Gracious! What a jump! Why, 
from England, of course. Couldn't you 
tell that? " 

" Yes, quite plainly. I've seen him 
before somewhere and I'm afraid he 
recognized me." 

" Oh, please don't think that! " She 
clutched my arms fearfully. " What 
makes you think he did? " 

" Nothing at all — just intuition. I 
thought he wrote that note. The hand 
is so very masculine. It isn't vours, 
is it?" 

She hesitated and looked away. 

" No. it isn't mine." 

" Well, that's all right." I said as 
lightly as possible. " Don't let's bother 
about it. I just thought I'd like to — " 

The cab stopped, and I did not finish 
the sentence. 

" My station, isn't it? " 

" Yes, and please don't be angry. 
You may kiss me if you think you 
ought to." 

Since there was no time to study 
the matter from more than one angle, 
I thought I ought to — and she did not 
flinch." 

" Good night — Margaret," I whis- 
pered. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



745 



" Good night— Jack/' 

She crept away into her corner, and 
I stepped out upon the sidewalk, 
searching for money. 

The chauffeur had not moved from 
his seat. 

"What's the damage?" I asked. 

" Tin dollars," he answered, without 
emotion, looking straight ahead. 

I paid — and found a card where 
the bill had been ! It w as a plain white 
card with some writing on it. 

" It's a braw nicht, sir." 

The depth and breadth of the sound 
made me jerk my head up as the taxi 
rolled away, and I stared after it for 
a minute or two till it vanished around 
a corner. 

Then I struck a match and looked 
more closely at the writing upon the 
card. 

Congratulations. Meet me in half 
an hour at the " Clachan of Aber- 
foyle." Eleventh Avenue and Fifty- 
Fourth Street. Take a Fifty-Ninth 
Street cross-town trolley to Tenth Ave- 
nue and Fifty-Fourth. Walk one block 
west. 

That was crowded upon one side. 

The other had a border of small red 
and black squares. In the center was 
neatly printed : 



FOR CHARITY 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE • CLACHAN 01 r ABF.RFOYLE. 

I pulled up with a jerk under a 
lamp that said " Central Park South " 
— which mystified me completely — and 
to save the bother of asking questions 
I took a taxi, unconscious that I was 
then on Fifty-Ninth Street, which is 
disguised for a few squares under the 
above more pleasant-sounding title. 

Since Campbell had said I was to 



take a tram to Tenth Avenue and 
Fifty-Fourth Street. I gave the chauf- 
feur that direction and intended to 
look about me before proceeding to 
the " Clachan." which I presumed w as 
a public house, or, I suppose I should 
say, saloon, to make myself more in- 
telligible. 

When I gave the instructions to the 
chauffeur he asked me to repeat it, and, 
apparently, did not care for it any 
more the second time than the first. 

However, we rattled across through 
the glare of Columbus Circle, getting 
a glimpse of the giddy swirl of Broad- 
way, which is more advertised than 
any other thoroughfare anywhere. 

Its lights flashed a moment or two 
and died out suddenly as we went on 
toward Eighth Avenue, which, I have 
since learned, is distinguished princi- 
pally for the consistency with which it 
places a public place — I mean saloon 
— on every corner, and in having 
trams that run direct to the Polo 
Grounds. 

The people one saw were different. 
There was a shuffling irresponsibility 
in their movements — a stoop-shoul- 
dered dejection that, in Tenth Avenue, 
became still more dejected, or, in the 
case of the younger generation form- 
ing in little groups at every corner, de- 
veloped into an insolent swagger that 
is both ugly and dangerous. 

Shadows that grew^ deeper and 
deeper seemed to hang about every- 
thing in spite of the electric light. 

When my cab stopped, and I got 
out to pay the chap, I found myself 
at what appeared to be a tram-termi- 
nal. Occupying practically a whole 
square was a place where off-duty 
trains are stored and repaired. 

Consequently there was plenty of 
light and life and bustle of a sort; peo- 
ple getting into starting cars and peo- 
ple getting out of cars coming in; con- 
ductors, motormen. and so forth. 

But beyond that evidence of re- 
spectable activity was an atmosphere 
surcharged with unpleasant possibili- 
ties. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



746 

Glancing about me, and finding that 
I was an object of interest for several 
pairs of eyes, probably because I had 
come out of a taxicab, and catching 
sight of a very suspicious-looking chap 
lurking in the shadow of the car-barn 
wall opposite, I turned quickly about 
and walked toward the river. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw 
the fellow cross over and follow me! 

The street was practically deserted. 
Upon one side of it, for three-quarters 
of a block, there is no sidewalk ; noth- 
ing save the blank wall of the car-barn, 
and on the opposite side, after one has 
passed a few dimly lit shops, the dull 
fronts of a few factories, a church and 
some wretched frame houses. 

Under a lamp midway I sighted the 
figure of a man hugging the wall, 
moving with a shambling gait toward 
me, while the soft pad of the feet be- 
hind came nearer as I passed out of 
the light of the shops. 

Naturally I hurried. For a mo- 
ment or two I had the wild suspicion 
of a trap, and, of course, remembered 
that Campbell had said I was a nui- 
sance to some people he knew, and that 
a life could be bought for a meal. 

Then the man in front lurched un- 
steadily out from the wall and imme- 
diately staggered back to it again. 

When I reached him a quick glance 
told me that he was very drunk ; my 
ears caught incoherent mumblings and 
a perfectly distinct question as to the 
whereabouts of Nessie — whoever she 
was. 

I went right on. 

The padding feet behind stopped. 

Almost instantly there were sounds 
of conflict; first of words — an inter- 
mingling of strange oaths — then a 
sharp scuffle, terminating in a squeal 
of pain. 

It was none of my business, and I 
did not even turn my head to see what 
had happened. The lights of a public 
house — dash it all. why can't I write 
saloon the first time — on the corner of 
Eleventh Avenue were very inviting. 

Crossing the street as speedily as I 



could without running, I made a bee- 
line for the place, which, being the 
only one in sight, I presumed must be 
the Clachan. 

The swing-doors gave very readily, 
so readily that I was in the midst of 
things, as it were, before I realized it, 
and bumped unpleasantly into a negro 
who was on his way out. 

" Oh, I beg your pardon," I apolo- 
gized, and the fellow, first growling 
a thick imprecation, thrust out an 
enormous hand, grabbed me by the 
shoulder and jerked me out of the way 
in the most unceremonious fashion, 
and leered. 

" Yo' jes' a puppy dawg ! " he in- 
formed me over his shoulder. " An' 
a yaller pup at dat. Be glaid ah don' 
make sausage-meat ou' o' yer." 

Evidently spoiling for a fight, he 
opened his wide mouth and laughed 
till the sound filled the place, instantly 
drawing upon us the attention of the 
ugly, motley crew about the bar. 

They were a mixture of black and 
white, and to all appearances the scum 
of both ; some bull-necked, huge- 
armed, slant-eyed brutes; others 
scraggy and sniveling; others lithe, 
quick and crafty; all of them possibly 
with a price hardly worth bothering 
about. 

They seemed to take my situation 
in at a glance, and their expressions 
indicated that they were watching for 
the sequel— to see what I would do. 
The black hulk of humanity who had 
called me a " puppy " also waited. 

Of course I'm not a fool. I ignored 
the whole batch of them and appealed 
to the red-faced giant behind the bar. 

" I have an appointment with a Mr. 
Campbell — " I began, and was instant- 
ly interrupted by a burst of leering 
laughter in which the barkeeper 
joined. 

" Guess you've got the wrong shop," 
he told me. 

" Ya-as, Mistah Puppy Dawg," my 
insolent colored friend chipped in. 
" Yo' suah's in de wrong pew. Lak 
crackers, Mistah Puppy Dawg?" 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



747 



" Here you, cut that out ! " 

The advice came from the bartend- 
er a trifle too late. An oyster-cracker, 
plucked from the lunch-counter, struck 
me just a fraction below the left eye — 
and it stung like the dickens. 

With an effort I controlled my tem- 
per, while the others, scenting sport at 
my expense, waited, mumbling or 
grinning their appreciation of the situ- 
ation. The bartender seemed unde- 
cided for a minute or two. My negro 
leered again : 

Well, Mistah Puppy Dawg, what 
you gwine tub dew 'bout it?" 

" If the gentleman behind the bar 
and the gentlemen before it will give 
me a chance and see fair play — I'll 
thrash you." 

Some one choked, another guf- 
fawed, the rest muttered among them- 
selves, craning forward as if to get a 
better look at me. 

My negro's leer slowly vanished. I 
did not take my eyes off his for a mo- 
ment. 

" Yo'll t*rash me? Yew will?" 

His great bulk suddenly lurched to- 
ward me, his enormous lists clenched 
as if ready to pound me to a jelly. 

The bartender called a warning 
sharply; the others backed away. 

Of course I was horribly scared. 
The fellow was so big and brutal, and 
I was not at all certain of a fair chance. 
There wasn't much room, either, to 
give me the use of my legs to escape 
the awful weight of the fellow's fists. 

Sidestepping. I took him on the 
chin and jabbed his nose before he 
had any opportunity to know what 
had happened. He bellowed like a 
bull, swung his arms like the sails of 
a windmill, and because I wasn't there 
to get the benefit of it all, he flopped 
wildly across a small table — to the ex- 
treme joy of every one but the bar- 
tender, whose white apron I was hazily 
conscious of seeing flying over the bar. 

The negro staggered upright, wiping 
some blood from his face, and an 
ominous growl sounded behind me as 
the bartender suddenly seized my arm. 



" Leave him be ! " 

" Gee ! He's a white hope ! " 

" He ain't so green ! " 

" Kill him, Batch ! Soak it to him ! " 

" Aw — have a heart ! Beat it, mis- 
ter, while your shoes are good ! " 

A jumble of comment came from 
the crowd. The bartender rushed me 
toward the door and I made no resist- 
ance. 

A horrible oath sounded behind me 
— and the scuffling rush of many feet. 
Suddenly the doors parted inwardly. 
"Gregarach!" 

The queer sounding name burst 
from several throats, and the sudden 
quiet that followed it was like a pall. 

My escort halted, and his hand fell 
from my arm. The ardor of the others 
went out like a snuffed lamp. All at 
once I felt peculiarly safe. 

Within the doorway stood a man in 
a long rain-coat reaching to his ankles, 
and wearing a broad-brimmed felt hat 
drawn well down over his eyes. 

By the height and girth of him I 
knew it was Campbell. 

CHAPTER X. 

" THR GREGARACH." 

For a moment or two he stood per- 
fectly still, ignoring me completely, his 
steely glance going over my shoulder 
to the silent group behind. 

Then, all at once, he moved, passing 
me like a cavalry charge, and, as I 
quickly turned my head, I heard the 
unmistakable impact of fist with face 
and saw my negro crumple and sink 
to the floor. 

Something glittering white slipped 
from his hand and slid along the oil- 
cloth almost to my feet. 

I stooped and picked it up — a razor. 

Batch's friends appeared anxious to 
get as far away from the conflict as 
possible, leaving half-finished "beers" 
strung out upon the bar and herding 
toward the " family entrance " which 
afforded an exit upon Eleventh 
Avenue. 



748 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



My negro made no effort to rise. 
He lay so strangely still that I began 
to feel chilly, when Campbell, standing 
over the huddled form, turned his face 
slowly toward me, and asked in still 
broader Scotch than he had used on 
the Randan ia. 

" Do ye no' place ony mair value on 
yer life than to pick a quarrel \vi' 
this scum? " And indicating Batch, he 
looked at the bartender sharply. " I'll 
speak tae ye about this later, Andy. 
See that somebody take him hame. 
Where's Beans? " 

As he put the question he caught my 
eye and jerked his head toward the 
door of a room, which a placard de- 
clared was " Closed.'" 

The negro stirred and moaned, but 
his evil-countenanced brethren made 
no move to his assistance. They were 
afraid of Campbell, uncertain of his 
attitude toward them, and eyed me up 
and down dully and questioningly. 

" Beans was here less than half an 
hour ago," the bartender replied to 
Campbell's question, speaking to the 
back of the latter's head, as my queer 
friend moved in the direction of the 
room he had indicated. " He said he 
was just going up to Tenth Avenue/' 

" Send him in tae me when he comes 
back." 

I followed him into the room 
marked " Closed." in which were sev- 
eral small round tables, with cane-bot- 
tomed chairs arranged about them. 
Upon the walls were colored prints of 
equine favorites, jockeys and ballet- 
dancers. 

Campbell closed the door behind me, 
shutting out the parasitical crew in the 
family entrance, and, glancing about 
the room as if to be sure that we were 
to be quite alone, waved me to a chair. 
His actions were peculiarly deliberate 
and cautious, and he apparently con- 
sidered the dim light we had sufficient. 

The member of select society had 
vanished. Even the face seemed 
changed. His long tan overcoat might 
have belonged to a hack-driver, and 
his shoes were in keeping with it. 



Following his every movement 
blankly, I sat down. 

Then I found him looking down at 
me and smiling. 

" I'm afraid," he said dryly, " that 
if Margaret saw you now with that 
fearsome weapon in your hand she 
would hesitate about taking another 
cab-ride with you." 

I put the razor which I had been 
clutching upon the table. 

" That's better," he conceded, seat- 
ing himself opposite me and stretching 
out his great legs, revealed some of the 
awful checked suit he wore below his 
coat. " A razor is a particularly deadly 
thing in the hands of a man like Batch, 
who would have had as little compunc- 
tion about slitting your jugular as I 
would have in breaking a match. He 
does not come here very often, but 
when he does there is always trouble 
of some sort. The last time he was 
here I told Andy not to serve him 
again." 

" And I suppose the bartender had 
been obeying orders," I suggested, 
feeling that Andy was possibly being 
misjudged. " I collided with the beg- 
gar as he was going out. and he was 
as mad as the dickens. But how is it 
that Andy didn't know who I meant 
when I asked for Mr. Campbell ? " 

My companion suddenly pounded 
the table with his fist in vigorous pro- 
test, making the razor dance. 

" Campbell ! Dinna ' Campbell ' me 
here ! My name is ' MacGregor,' and 
them that ken me best ca' me the 
' Gregarach.' If ye would be safe 
hereabout, an' mak' freens an' keep 
them, ye'll remember that." 

I suppose I looked bewildered and 
uncertain of how' to take his advice. 
His expression became less thunder- 
ous. 

" Gregarach means the Chief Mac- 
Gregor," he explained quietly. " Even 
Beans Borrowman uses the word and 
hardly knows that it is Gaelic, or, if he 
does, is not sure whether Gaelic is a 
language or a country. 

" Beans, I may inform you, is one 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



749 



of the few — the very few — pickpock- 
ets — or dips, as they call themselves — 
in the business who has been clever 
enough to avoid working for Uncle 
Sam. I advised him to be at Fifty- 
Fourth Street and Tenth Avenue to 
meet you, and can't understand why 
he didn't. I presume you came by 
trolley? " 

" No — I took a taxi — " I began, 
and he scowled, so I stopped to see if 
he intended to put the scowl into 
words. " But I got out at Tenth Ave- 
nue and Fifty - Fourth Street and 
walked down here." 

The scowl vanished. 

"There was a chap — very suspi- 
cious, I thought — hugging the car-barn 
wall at the corner, and when I started 
down here he followedime, but stopped 
half-way down the street to scrap with 
a drunken fellow who seemed anxious 
about ' Nessie.' " 

The Gregarach — I must remember 
that name, because, to be quite frank, 
I think it was a salve to Campbell's 
vanity — nodded his head slowly sev- 
eral times, and his eyebrows, heavy 
and of a dark-red hue, rose and fell. 

" Yes — I suppose that was Beans's 
father. Filial duty comes before all 
else, or it should, and doubtless in pre- 
venting that blatherskite of a father of 
his from getting too far from home, 
he was doing me a service. 

'" When Borrowman senior is sober 
he is a plasterer perpetually unem- 
ployed. When he is drunk he talks 
incessantly, and often dangerously, of 
matters that are of no concern of his, 
but which might be interesting to what 
writers are pleased to call ' the limbs 
of the law.' 

" By the way, I believe that reliable 
information against the Gregarach is 
worth a bonny penny in Mulberry 
Street, and will probably be worth 
more when we have disposed of the 
Rollins matter. 

"If you should meet a detective 
named Parks, a central office man he 
is, you could possibly make five thou- 
sand by telling him where he could 



find me in the daytime. I met him in 
the City Hall yesterday as I came out 
of the surrogate's office, and he touched 
his bat to me very respectfully. Funny, 
isn't it? " 

I laughed in spite of myself, and 
felt myself slipping into his net with- 
out a struggle, as if it were the most 
natural thing in the world to do. 

His contempt for Parks and what 
Parks represented was supreme. One 
could not help admiring him, and there 
was no hint of treachery in his face. 

" You have taken a lot for granted 
with me," I. declared. " That card you 
gave me — a newspaper report I read — 
and — this — whv, man, I know enough 
to—" 

" Believe what I am going to tell 
you," he interrupted calmly, removing 
his hat and barkening to the muffled 
sounds that came from the barroom 
and the street. 

" I take nothing for granted in any 
man." he continued. 1 From Batch 
upward. But when a man needs me 
and I need him, there is a bond of faith 
already established. 

" I have introduced you to Rollins, 
made you suffer his company, given 
you a glimpse of his daughter as he 
affects her and as she really is. and 
shown you a way of redeeming what 
your fathers have lost. Whether you 
take advantage of the chance is your 
own affair. But now I am going to 
tell you a story, and I found it neces- 
sary to bring you here, because I want 
you to know the place thoroughly." 

I gaped. 

" What the dickens does it matter 
whether — " 

" Seems strange, doesn't it? " 

He studied my face curiously. 

" But no more strange than the fact 
that if you died Rollins would become 
the — Earl of Didderington." 

"What?" 

I almost screamed it and jumped 
half out of my chair to lean across the 
table and stare into his quiet eyes. 

He nodded. 

" Wait. This is Beans." 



750 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



He spoke very low and glanced to- 
ward the door, and, as I sank limply 
back into my chair, feeling that I was 
being cheated by the delay, a young 
man, cap in hand, slipped into the 
room, closing the door noiselessly. 

" The old man — " he began hur- 
riedly, as he came forward. 

" I know,'' the Gregarach inter- 
rupted. " Batch gone? " 

" Yes, sir. Saw him bein' helped up 
th' av'noo, sir." 

"Good. Shake hands with Mr. 
Mason. Mason, this is my lieutenant 
and friend — Mr. Beans Borrowman." 

Beans's hand shot forward, and I 
rose and took it gravely. 

" Glad to know you, sir," he said in 
a peculiarly quiet voice, while I mut- 
tered something about the pleasure 
being mutual, trying to grasp the fact 
that I was hobnobbing with thieves 
and all sorts of questionable people. 

Meeting him in a casual way, one 
would never have taken the trouble to 
look at Beans twice. He suggested the 
young, ill-paid mechanic, who counts 
each new suit or pair of shoes as being 
" so much at so much per week." 

His face seemed dusty, encouraging 
an inclination to wipe it off with, a dry 
rag, and the curious gray eyes, that 
looked out at one from under strangely 
scattered eyebrows, gave one the im- 
pression that the world was an ever- 
lasting surprise to him. In his build — 
of medium height, his shoulders slight- 
ly guilty of the slouch of his class — 
there was a hint of supple strength and 
quickness. 

"Put him to bed?" the Gregarach 
asked lightly, referring to the " old 
man." 

" Yes. sir — strapped." 

" Good. Delia been round to-day ? " 

" No. sir. Ain't seen her since Mon- 
day, sir." 

"Urn — all right. Take this round 
to Mrs. Phalen — and tell her to pay 
two months' rent out of it. She's one 
in arrears, you know, and I'm afraid 
Danny doesn't tell her the whole truth 
about these things." 



His eyes swung lazily upon me. 

" Mrs. Phalen is blind," he advised, 
and turned to Beans again. " Tell 
Danny he's to go to Corcoran's Mon- 
day morning at eight sharp. Time- 
keeper. And you might slip into 
Blakeley's and ask him about his rheu- 
matism. Doc Briggs was to see him 
to-day. Davie Marks and his sister 
get away all right ? " 

" Yes, sir," Beans replied, taking the 
proffered envelope as a matter of 
course. " The kid was looking pretty 
bad, sir." 

A furrow appeared between the 
Gregarach's eyes. 

" Yes — it's a pity we didn't know 
sooner. But Colorado Springs should 
help. Heard anything from Bran- 
nigan ? " 

" Just a card from Phoenix, sir. He 
says it's all to the mustard down there, 
sir." 

" I hope so. Gibbs seems to be sur- 
viving, at any rate, and he was in 
worse shape than Brannigan. Any re- 
ports from Crabbe or Paler ? " 

" Crabbe sent Crowley down to say 
there was nothin' doin' yet — an' Paler 
will be in to-morrow. Gregg's bunch 
are mostly hangin' round. When you 
was away they wouldn't woik for me 
steady, and I think you'll have to talk 
to Gregg, sir. 

" His crowd gets nasty roun' me — > 
hollerhv for a bigger rakeoff and want- 
in' to get back to shootin' up the town. 
Lyin' low, woikin' quiet, gets on their 
noives, an' what wit' Batch tryin' to 
get the Lumber Gang to come down 
an' muss us up — I ain't had much of 
a chanst to git 'em woikin' as Pd like, 
sir." 

I could only dimly understand — like 
the chap who hears two doctors hold- 
ing a consultation over him, but the 
Gregarach listened attentively, eying 
his lieutenant in quiet interrogation. 

" Sure you are not losing your grip 
— hunting for Smith?" 

Beans pulled his head back as if 
avoiding a blow. Quite evidently the 
reference to Smith had startled him. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



751 



" No, sir," he answered sullenly, 
" I ain't had time to hunt for him. An' 
I give you my woid before you went 
to Europe that I wouldn't do nothin' 
till you got back. Ain't that right? " 

" Quite right.- But please be careful 
not to get too indignant with me. I 
don't like it. You can put Gregg on 
Batch's track. That will give him 
something to do. And if Batch shows 
signs of being a trouble-maker — Gregg 
has a free hand outside of guns and 
things like this." 

He held up the negro's razor, looked 
steadily at Beans for a moment or two, 
then handed it over to him. 

" Throw it into the river and see 
Gregg if you can, to-night. When you 
are going out tell Andy I've forgiven 
him — and to keep a careful eye upon 
that door. Mr. Mason and I do not 
wish to be disturbed. Good night." 

" Good night, sir," Beans returned, 
and, nodding to me, went swiftly and 
noiselessly out. 

I glanced into Campbell's face and 
found him amused. 

" That was a nuisance, wasn't it ? " 
he asked, as if he appreciated my anx- 
iety to get back to Rollins. " But now 
it's done, and we will resume our 
acquaintance with Mr. R." 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE STORY HE TOLD. 

A burst of raucous laughter came 
from the barroom. A cart of some 
sort rattling down the street and a 
motor-horn not far off were among 
the last sounds I heard before Camp- 
bell, with his eyes going steadily over 
my shoulder toward the door, began 
the story that even made the tables 
round about me fade as I watched his 
face and listened. 

It began with the elopement of Lady 
Alice Didderington and Bob Dolliver 
away back in 1832. Apparently they 
had emigrated to New York, where 
their only child, Alice Dolliver, was 
born. 



She, in her turn, married a chap 
named Ralph Rollins, and they had 
two children — the Rollins of my story 
and Mrs. Van Huysen. 

Lady Alice had lived to see her 
grandchildren married and to welcome 
another generation into the world. She 
died in the fall of 1890. 

The Campbells and the Rollins-Dol- 
liver families had grown up together 
— financially as well as socially. 

When Campbell was a boy he used 
to sit on Lady Alice's knee while she 
told him of her memories of Water- 
loo and of the things in her childhood 
that had frightened her. 

One always remembers the things in 
one's infant days that frightened one; 
and her father seemed to have been re- 
markable in that particular. Even as 
a great-grandmother, she still appeared 
rather afraid of him. 

Campbell was in the room an hour 
before she died. He said she was a 
good old soul — a sort of second 
mother to him after his own died. She 
was in a sort of delirium, but she knew 
him and made him kneel by the bed 
and speak to her. 

Mrs. Van Huysen was there, and a 
nurse and a doctor; but the old lady 
held on to him in spite of them, and 
Avhile she was rumpling his hair, some- 
times talking rationally, sometimes 
rambling, she suddenly said, quite 
clearly : 

" I can see it, Robbie ! Over there — 
the old lodge-gate and — he's lying on 
his face — so still — so terribly still ! " 

I found Campbell peering at me 
suddenly through half-closed lids. 

" There was a fear in that old wom- 
an's eyes I shall never forget," he said 
quietly. " Fear of something terrible! 
You know how her father died ? " 

" Yes," I replied, wondering what 
he was driving at. " He was shot in 
the back of the head at the lodge- 
gate." 

A shadow of disappointment crossed 
his face, and I had a strange suspicion 
that he knew more of my family his- 
tory than I did. 



752 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Evidently they put him out of the 
room after that; hut he was a hoy of 
fourteen at the time, and he never for- 
got it. 

Then he came to the near present, 
which was more important than a cen- 
tury-old mystery. 

Rollins, in Camphell's opinion, was 
the reincarnation of the forefather of 
mine who was shot at the lodge-gate. 
There was nothing too mean for him, 
nothing too low. 

His intention had heen to give his 
daughter and his nephew the deeds to 
Didderington on their wedding-day. 
That was his original and only idea in 
taking up all the mortgages. 

Camphell gave him the other one. 

I didn't know what he meant, hut 
he went on without looking at me. 

" You see, Rollins knew who and 
what I am in my leisure hours. He's 
known it ever since that night I took 
my safety and bonny Nessie Borrow- 
man by the hand and made him prom- 
ise by all his gods to marry her." 

" Good Heavens! " 

My exclamation fell to a whisper. 

" And the next day he slipped out of 
my hands for London." 

I might as well not have been in the 
room, for all the attention he paid to 
me; and as he produced his watch in 
a lackadaisical sort of way, glancing at 
it as if the hour did not interest him, 
he added without looking at me : 

" Rollins is the ' Smith ' for whom 
Beans is looking." 

Feeling limp and horror-stricken, I 
sat watching my companion's face, 
wondering what I could say. Then, as 
if he knew what I wanted to ask, he 
continued in a low monotone, still 
watching the door : 

" He met her while she was on the 
road with the ' Foibles.' The program 
called her Lily Beaufort. She was a 
good girl; rough, of course, given to 
slang and the gossip of the dressing- 
room ; but when she was in New York- 
she spent most of her time keeping her 
father out of saloons. 

" I forgot the name Rollins gave 



her — Somers or Somerville, I think it 
was — but he did not let the matter rest 
in Rochester. Perhaps for a few 
months he was actually infatuated with 
her, and met her frecpiently during that 
time, even in New York." 

The girl trusted him implicitly, 
though Heaven knows how she man- 
aged it; and when she came to tell 
Campbell — MacGregor, as she knew 
him — about it. her description of 
Rollins, particularly of his cravats, 
gave him away completely. I could 
readily believe that. Rollins's neck- 
wear, to any one who knew him, was 
fatal. 

After he ran away to Europe, Camp- 
bell lost all trace of Miss Borrowman. 
for several months. Then he got a 
note from a stranger saying that the 
girl wished to see him. . 

He found her in Passaic, living with 
a girl who used to be in the same com- 
pany. 

" What transpired at the bedside," 
Campbell declared, as if the memory 
was a particularly painful one, " does 
not matter. But that poor girl died 
because she did not want to live." 

She had not told of having ap- 
proached Campbell before, or anything 
about his previous connection with the 
affair; nothing but the fact that Smith 
had promised to marry her and had run 
off to Europe. 

Five minutes after she died her 
sister and Beans arrived. 

They, too, had been sent for at the 
dead girl's request, but her friend could 
tell them nothing except the name by 
which Miss Borrowman knew Rollins. 
So they called him Smith for short. 

Beans was murderous at once. He 
haunted the docks for weeks, search- 
ing for a man whom he had never 
seen and of whom he had no descrip- 
tion. 

Nessie Borrowman's erstwhile room- 
mate was more sensible. While Beans 
was clamoring for blood she was won- 
dering if Smith had any money, and 
claimed, with much wisdom, that a dead 
Smith wouldn't be worth much. The 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



753 



longer he lived, the longer he would 
pay. 

" And that's all you need know about 
it."' Campbell finished abruptly. " I 
have protected Rollins's worthless life 
for a year and kept Beans from — mur- 
der." 

I think I shrank a little. 

" Aye — it's an ugly word, but Beans 
and his kind haven't much method in 
their madness. They are gathered 
from the ends of the earth, the ragged 
ends mostly — born behind the bars al- 
most — and their manners are crude. 
They dig great holes in their enemies 
and scatter gore about shamefully; but, 
man. they're bairns when you handle 
them right — just bairns." 

" I suppose so," I said, and waited. 

" Rollins would sell me to-morrow, 
if he dared." he continued heavily. 
"But he is afraid; not so much of 
me as of my people.'' 

There was something akin to pride 
in that " my people." In that moment 
I felt that somewhere in his life was 
a sorrow that gnawed ; one for which 
Rollins might have been responsible, 
and of which he did not care to speak. 

" In this city it would take months 
to prove anything against me — if any- 
thing were ever proved at all, and Rol- 
lins is afraid of what might happen in 
the interval. 

" But he is a constant menace — you 
can appreciate that — hating me in- 
tensely for my knowledge. My idea is 
that, when he finally goes to England, 
he will leave a message with Detective 
Parks before he sails." 

" You don't mean to say that he 
would — " 

"Why not?" Campbell questioned. 
" He is quite capable of it if he thought 
he would'be safe in England. I tell you 
the man is small and he is afraid of me. 

" To make it worse, he thinks I am 
so afraid of him that I am likely to 
put Beans on his track at any time, and 
he has not forgotten the night when I 
pictured to him what would happen if 
the girl's brother ever found him. It 
was pressure of that sort that brought 



from him the promise he made the girl 
and me, and 1 suppose the same pres- 
sure induced him to take the first boat 
to Europe." * 

" But when he got back, couldn't 
you — " 

" A few weeks before I heard of 
Xcssie Borrowman's story," he inter- 
rupted and as if I had not spoken. " I 
went to him on another matter — never 
mind why — and I told him to buy the 
Didderington estates, kill you, and be- 
come an earl all by himself, if he want- 
ed to, but, for Heaven's sake, to give 
his daughter a chance to grow up and 
choose a husband for herself." 

I sat up a little straighter in my 
chair. 

" He told me to go to the devil," 
Campbell continued easily. " And 
after the exchange of a few compli- 
ments I left. 

"After he had crawled back' from 
Europe we avoided each other for a 
while. If I thought he was to be at 
the Van Huysens', I would not go 
there, and he never appeared while I 
was on the scene. 1 think he was 
afraid of what I might do if I met him 
— and so was I. Then — he came to 
me." 

Rollins had declared that it was a 
friendly call; to bury the hatchet and 
so forth. As he spoke he fumbled 
nervously with his hands, as if he did 
not know what to do with them. 

He took a chair by the table under 
a lamp, the light of which made the 
round bald spot on the top of his head 
glisten like a billiard-ball. Host and 
guest were in evening clothes, and the 
latter was constantly casting slanting 
glances of apparent understanding to- 
ward several newspapers that had 
fallen beside Campbell's chair. 

A prominent banker had been shot 
and killed in the Bronx the evening 
before. 

The papers said uncomplimentary 
things about the police, and spoke of 
the baffling, Machiavelian, demoraliz- 
ing — all those adjectives, mind you — 
effectiveness of organization among a 



754 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



company of West End youths, gen- 
erally and fearfully referred to as the 
" Rob Roy gang." 

Campbell had been reading the things 
people were saying about his " boys," 
and knowing that they had nothing to 
do with the horrible business, he was 
rather annoyed. Everything that was 
at all clever in a criminal way in New 
York was laid at their door, which be- 
came very unfair when murder was the 
charge, since the Gegarach had no 
patience with people who could not take 
a man's money and give him a chance 
to feel the loss. 

When Rollins came, Campbell at 
once believed he had come to speak of 
the murder — a natural conclusion, since 
his visitor was aware of his host's con- 
nection with the accused Rob Roy 
gang. 

But no — it was just a friendly call. 
He had hoped that Campbell had come 
to realize how utterly impossible that 
other thing had been, and since he and 
Campbell's father had been such bo- 
som friends, since Campbell had been 
such a favorite with the late Lady 
Alice, it was really a pity they could 
not understand each other better. 

And Rollins's gaze traveled mean- 
ingly to the newspapers upon the floor; 
but he did not mention the banker's 
death — not a syllabic. 

Campbell agreed with him; gave him 
to drink and to smoke; a.-.d waited. 

Rollins, trifling with his glass, ap- 
peared to steady himself, and, apropos 
of nothing at all. asked quite sud- 
denly : 

" I wonder if that fool on the other 
side can possibly scrape together the 
mortgage on that lodge? It's only 
fifty thousand, you know? " 

" He might — just to be devilish," 
Campbell returned easily. " You want 
that piece of property pretty badly, 
don't you? " 

Rollins's eyes narrowed a little. He 
side-stepped his host's question. 

" Oh, I'm not worrying about it — 
no, not at all — but I'd like to get it. 
My grandfather Dollivcr was born in 



the lodge, you know, and it will spoil 
the whole thing if I don't get it — con- 
found him ! " 

" Who? Your grandfather or — " 
" That nincompoop who calls him- 
self the earl, of course." 

" He's never done you any harm, has 
he?" 

"Harm! Him? Rubbish!" Rollins 
laughed at the idea. " In a year or two, 
probably, the useless, penniless fool will 
be defiling his name in cheap lodgings 
in Bloomsbury, or be peddling shoe- 
laces on my sidewalk. In a year from 
now I'll have everything he owns but 
his title " — here he glanced at the 
newspapers again, then quickly up into 
Campbell's face — " and I could buy 
that for a miserly little ten-dollar bill." 

" Yes, I suppose you could," the host 
agreed carelessly. " I know where you 
could do it for less, if you were not 
particular about the company you 
kept." 

Rollins almost knocked over his 
glass. He mumbled something unin- 
telligible, and tried to appear as if he 
had not heard what Campbell had 
said. 

Startled from its gloomy lair, the 
thing Upon Rollins's mind had jumped 
into light, and, though it vanished just 
as quickly, Campbell pulled it out again 
and kept it there, watching it grow. 

" It does seem a pity that the thread 
of one man's life should stand between 
you and a coronet. It's such a tiny 
thread, too — that could be cut in a 
second. If there were three or four 
people in the way it would be different 
— but one — just one! Galling, isn't 
it?" 

Rollins's cheeks went white and red- 
in turn. 

" Down in the Kitchen." Campbell 
resumed, " we do those things scien- 
tifically. A man's life is only worth 
so much as he is willing to pay to keep 
it. Some men love to live; others, ap- 
parently, do not care particularly. 

" I am judging by the price they 
offer. It is an interesting study — and 
one's hands can be kept quite clean. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



755 



There are professionals, you know, 
who do that sort of thing for a song, 
and get drunk upon the music. They 
kill between drinks, as it were."' 

Rollins listened like a starving man 
in sight of food ; and Campbell led him 
on with lies — wonderful, murderous 
lies. 1 

Have you ever met a man who is 
aching to find some one who is as big 
a scoundrel as himself, to whom he 
can talk and from whom he may, per- 
haps, get advice and encouragement? 

" That,"' Campbell told me, " was 
Rollins that night." 

My existence was tearing at his liver 
like a vulture ; and the more he thought 
* of it the more he suffered. It was such 
a little barrier; the most unreliable 
thing in the world; so slender and un- 
certain that in a second of time it could 
be wiped out — even with the flash of 
a ten-dollar bill ! 

In the light of the lamp, Rollins's 
complexion had turned the color of 
cigar-ash. His mouth struggled to 
form words that would not come. 

" Once you told me — to do it, you 
know,'' he said thickly. " I've won- 
dered since if you meant it." 

Campbell nodded slowly, as if killing 
a man were a thing of no importance; 
Rollins scrutinized him. plainly uncer- 
tain of how to accept his point of view. 
Then his attention was drawn to the 
newspapers again. 

" But if — suppose we — that is — 
how would he come over to the 
States?" 

" That's simple. The least of our 
troubles. Do you want him brought 
over?" 

Rollins hesitated, then quite suddenly 
swung upon Campbell and leaned to- 
ward him. 

" Let's understand each other," he 
demanded in the tone of a man who is 
tired of subterfuge, yet is angry at 
having to come out of concealment. 
" You're a crook, and I know it. That 
thing in the newspapers would not do 
you any good if I went to headquar- 
ters with a story." 



" All right," Campbell agreed, un- 
abashed. " Go on." 

" Well — you know — what I want." 

"Is that a threat?" Campbell's 
voice was very low. 

" Nothing like that. I'm not going 
to kill the goose that may lay the 
golden eggs." 

" You mean ? " 

" Suggestions." 

" I see." Campbell rose lazily. 
" Here is one. Listen, and take it home 
with you. If you don't like it, bring 
it back and I'll perhaps exchange it for 
a better one." 

"Well — what is it?" Rollins was 
hoarse with eagerness. 

" I know a young thug," Campbell 
said very deliberately, " who has mur- 
der in his eye for a man he has never 
seen. That thug is anxious to meet an 
Englishman named ' Smith ' who — 
killed his brother in London. If the 
Earl of Didderington were in my way, 
as he is in yours, I'd be very friendly 
-with him ; and then we'd do a little 
slumming one evening. 

" We would go to a place I know 
near the river, where we should be sure 
to meet the young man looking for 
Smith. I'd find an opportunity to talk 
to that young man for a minute or 
two, and then I'd go back to my friend, 
the earl, and wait to watch him die ! " 

" Good Heavens ! " 

The exclamation was mine. 5- start- 
ed to my feet, while the tables and 
chairs swarmed about me. I stood 
gaping down at him. But there was 
no change in Campbell's expression. 

" Of course," he went on, and his 
head bent forward a little, as if he were 
interested in something upon the floor 
near the door, " I told Rollins he 
would have to arrange it a little differ- 
ently, but pointed out that it was the 
safest thing in the world. 

" He saw that it was, and took the 
idea home with him. Later, as I knew 
he would, he brought it back again, 
saying he could not use it since he did 
not know the man who was looking 
for Smith." 



756 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Campbell's interest in the door be- 
came more keen, and his head bent 
lower. 

" I said he could become acquainted 
with my thug for fifty thousand dol- 
lars. But he balked on the price, until 
a month ago when I suggested that 
you might marry and have children." 

Campbell's hand went to the inside 
pocket of his coat, and when he spoke 
it was in a whisper of caution. 

" That settled it, and we came to 
terms. Ten thousand when I got you 
over here; another ten when I intro- 
duced him to the man looking for 
Smith, and the rest — when the job was 
done ! " 

"What?" 

" Wheesht ! He paid the first ten 
on Monday. Here is my check for it." 

And he held out a white slip of paper 
to me! 



CHAPTER XII. 

A LOOSE END. 

I stared at the thing and pulled 
away from it. For a few moments I 
didn't know whether to laugh or run ; 
and since I couldn't move because I was 
semiparalyzed, I laughed foolishly. 

The whole business seemed so queer 
and creepy — and silly. 

Some one was being made an ass of, 
and I wasn't at all certain that it was 
Rollins, even when Campbell thrust the 
bally thing into my hand, and I saw, 
in open-mouthed wonder, that it was in 
truth a check, made out to John T. 
Mason by R. M. Campbell, for the sum 
of ten thousand dollars! 

" But — good Lord, man ! " 

" Wheesht ! Tak' it. Wha has a bet- 
ter right to the price of your life than 
you? " 

He got upon his feet, crammed his 
hat upon his head, and pulled the brim 
down over his eyes. 

" Come, and I'll show you the 
emergency exit. There is the reason. 
See it?" 

My mind struggled valiantly out of 



a misty haze. The sounds in the bar- 
room seemed suddenly to grow louder. 
Glancing in the direction Campbell's 
large index-finger pointed, I saw, 
fastened to the wall, to the right of 
the door, a little black box, and, as I 
looked, a green light came and went 
twice. 

" Jove — that's — " 

" Quiet," Campbell cautioned. " Not 
now. We'll go home." 

There was nothing for me to do but 
follow, though I had no idea of what 
was up, and as I tiptoed after him it 
seemed as if every board was yelling 
out against me, while, in spite of his 
great bulk, he made scarcely any sound 
whatever. 

Reaching a door in the rear of the 
room, he turned the key in it noise- 
lessly, and allowed me to pass out into 
the darkness of a place like a kitchen. 

" Wait," he whispered, and I halted 
while he closed and locked the door, 
thrusting the key into his pocket. 

Then he was at my side, gripping my 
arm. 

" The door is right ahead," he ad- 
vised in a low monotone. " So when 
you need it, don't waste valuable time 
searching for it. Since the case isn't 
urgent to-night, I'll give you a light." 

In a moment there was a slight click, 
and a single electric bulb showed me 
that the place was really a kitchen, 
which, by the look of it, was not often 
used. 

" Andy knows we are gone now," I 
was told, and I saw that beside the 
switch was a push-button on which his 
finger rested. 

" What does that do — ring a bell? " 

" Hardly. Bells talk too plainly. A 
little white light under the bar is telling 
the story, and a certain emissary from 
a ward politician, who is anxious to 
know how I feel toward the November 
election, will wait patiently for an hour 
or two, helping to swell my profits — " 

"Your profits!" I exclaimed in- 
credulously. 

" " Exactly. This place belongs to me. 
If I didn't take the money from those 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



757 



fools, they would spend it elsewhere 
and their dependents would never get 
it hack. But we can't stand here dis- 
cussing my methods;" 

And putting out the light without 
further parley, he half led, half pushed 
me toward the door, suddenly gripping 
my hand and thrusting it against the 
knob, so that my lingers took hold of 
the thing instinctively. 

" Don't turn it — pull it to the right/' 
he instructed. " It can't he opened 
from the outside except with a key. 
That's right " — as I pulled the door 
open — " now we're in the yard."' 

We passed into the open air, into the 
midst of gaunt shadows, and the door 
clicked behind us. 

" The gate is on the left, in the upper 
comer. That's the way to walk right 
into the street and the other fellow's 
gun. if it's as bad as that. The other 
way is to turn to the right to the wire 
fence; and even if you try to miss it, it 
won't miss you. 

" Creep under it, and keep on until 
you have gone under one more wire 
fence and over one rickety hoard one. 
The board fence will tell you not to 
go any farther after you've gotten over 
it. Then you will be in Brannigan's 
yard, and you will go up to his back- 
door, walk right in. and if you say 
' Gregarach ' he'll let you stay. 

" He has a little candy-store front- 
ing on Eleventh Avenue, and he lives 
in the rear of it. There is nothing that 
you need be afraid of. The two stores 
between the Clachan and Brannigan's 
are vacant, and always will be, because 
I keep them so. I pay rent to myself 
for them. Think you can remember 
all that ? " 

It is just so much gibberish to 
me," I expostulated. 

" Man — but you're an inquisitive 
soul. Just tell me now if you can re- 
member two wire fences, one board 
fence, and Brannigan's back door. Can 
you ? " 

" I think so," I answered. 

" I hope so, but I'll write it down 
for you when we get home." 



- Home?" 

" My home," he answered tersely. 
" We've got a few things yet to say to 
each other, and we'll be fairly respect- 
able to-night and go out by the street 
gate. Doesn't the air feel good — even 
here? " 

He drew a great, deep breath as we 
passed out into the dimly lit street and 
headed toward Tenth Avenue; and in- 
stantly 1 marveled at the man's utter 
disregard for any sort of disguise or 
concealment. Apparently, he walked 
about under the noses of the police 
without a particle of concern for his 
sa f ety. 

" You're a cool beggar! " I declared 
as we crossed over to the sidewalk. 

Campbell laughed and took hold of 
my arm again. 

" Dinna lie feart, my mannie,"' he 
soothed irritatingly, and continued in a 
low, cautious tone: " You are safer 
here with me than you will 'be in 
Rollins's place to-morrow. There is a 
policeman'at the corner, too, and if I 
condescend to notice him he will say 
' Good av'nin', sorr.' like a gentlepian. 

" If you asked him who I was, he 
would probably tell you that I was a 
' quare Scotch gintlemin phwat owns 
the worrust saloon in Hell's Kitchin, 
an' is thryin' to turn the place into a 
sivinth hivin, an' not doin' so bad at 
that, wit' givin' the force less worruk 
than it ivir had in thim parrts.' He 
and his captain may have a thousand 
suspicions about my connections with 
a certain company whose methods are 
like nothing the police has ever had to 
handle before, and Parks, of the Cen- 
tral Office, may have a thousand more 
ideas about me. 

" But suspicion and evidence are 
widely different things. Besides, which 
is more important, they know that Mr. 
MacGregor can make or unmake any 
gentleman with political aspirations 
hereabout — and that Mr. MacGregor 
has money — oh, lots of money! — I 
wonder who the lady is?" 

A woman had appeared within the 
light of the few little shops at the 



V 



758 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Tenth Avenue corner; she was coming 
toward us, evidently in a great hurry. 

Whether young or old, I could not 
tell; but my companion's pace slack- 
ened, and he seemed to gage his steps 
so that we would meet her under a 
lamp-post. 

And we did. Campbell came to a 
full stop, and, of course, I with him. 
The woman almost collided with us. 
A foot away she raised her eyes from 
the ground with the light shining full 
upon her face. 

" Greg — " she began and stopped, as 
if his look had choked off the rest of it. 

There was no hat upon her head. 
She was young — under twenty-five — 
a little gaudily but cheaply clothed, and 
her cheeks were marred by color put 
on with a too lavish hand. 

Evidently she hailed from southern 
Europe, and her eyes were wonderful 
— very dark and afraid. She fumbled 
with her hands, and appeared to await 
anxiously the Gregarach's observa- 
tions. 

" You were coming to see me? ' 
Campbell asked quietly. 
*' No. sir." 

" Then you were going to confes- 
sion ? " 

He turned his head to where, farther 
down the street, was the Church of 
Saint — I've forgotten the chap's name. 

" No, sir." 

" Then we'll take you home," Camp- 
bell declared decisively. " Where is 
Tony?" 

'• I don' know, sir," the girl whim- 
pered, and sought the support of the 
lamp-post. " Two week I no' see him." 

" 1 think I can find him." Campbell 
declared. "And when I do, I'll tell 
him you came to me and asked me to 
bring him back to you. How will 
that do ? " 

I doubted if the girl understood 
every word, but she grasped the mean- 
ing of the lie better than I. judging by 
the frightened look that sprang into 
her eyes. She made no comment, but 
allowed Campbell to take her arm and 
lead her back the way she had come. 



Of course, I felt out of it complete- 
ly; but with the check my strange 
friend had given me burning a hole in 
my pocket, and a million questions 
fighting each other for precedence on 
my tongue, I walked with them, specu- 
lating upon what was going to happen 
next. 

Campbell did not speak, nor the girl, 
nor I. When we reached the corner of 
Tenth Avenue one of the usual little 
groups lounging about a saloon-door 
said " Good evenin', sir," almost in 
unison, and the policeman, now mov- 
ing up the street, echoed it in a County 
Cork accent. 

I was not sure during the short walk 
whether I was standing on the rim of 
a volcano or walking with a king on 
parade. But it was apparent before 
we had gone two squares that in that 
section he who could claim the friend- 
ship of the Gregarach might walk 
in perfect safety. 

The girl ignored me completely as 
is I were a rank outsider; and when, 
after going a few squares. Campbell 
said, " Wait, please." and vanished 
into an entry, above which was an in- 
timation that one could play pool for 
two and a half cents per cue, I felt 
stupid, with a nasty sensation that I 
should say something to her, yet feared 
a snub for my pains. 

Before I could decide Campbell re- 
appeared with a little man like the boot- 
black at the hotel. 

Expecting a demonstration, yet ho- 
ping there wouldn't be one in such a 
public place, I was really disappointed 
in the denouement. 

Campbell simply said : 

"Tony, your wife isn't very well: 
so she came to me and asked me to tell 
you that she wanted you to come back 
to her. Take her home." 

Tony looked from one to the other 
sheepishly. He was hardly as steady 
as he might have been, and when he 
took hold of his wife's arm I thought 
she would be more likely to take him 
home. 

" A'ri', mister," he mumbled thickly. 



• A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



759' 



" Yon Una man — yessir. Tony badda 
man; getta gocxla wife. We go.'' 

Tony's wife said nothing, but she 
shrank from him. and for a moment 
her eyes met Campbell's. 

There was hate in them, and despair 
and loathing — a queer mixture; the 
battle of a weakened soul against the 
inevitable. 1 would not have cared to 
have had the venom in it directed at me. 

" Good night, Mrs. Yarelli, - ' Camp- 
bell said softly, and turned and drew 
me away. We crossed Tenth Avenue 
and walked up Fifty-Seventh Street. 

" Why did you lie to that man? " I. 
asked. " She hates the little beast." 

" Aye. she hates him," Campbell ad- 
mitted broadly — " and with fair rea- 
son. He stays away from her for 
weeks and comes back to her when his 
money is gone. She works in a fac- 
tory and supports herself. He is a 
cheap sort of poolroom thief, whom 
I've kept out of jail twice, and that 
is why they respect what I say and 
make a bluff of being satisfied. 

" But there's no gratitude in that 
little rat. He'll be off again in a week, 
ff not sooner; and some day he'll kill 
some one and shiver in a condemned 
cell till they take him out to end a life 
that began somewhere on the sunny 
shores of Sicily." 

" I suppose^ so," I agreed. " But 
that doesn't explain the lie altogether." 

" Well, it wouldn't have done if I 
had told Tony that his wife was on 
the way to look for Beans Borrowman 
when I met her." 

" The deuce she was ! " 

" Exactly," Campbell admitted with 
a trace of annoyance. " And I can't 
afford to have my lieutenants mixed 
up with Sicilian carving-knives at this 
time of the year. Winter is coming 
on, and that's our busy season." 



CHAPTER XIII. 

AN INTERRUPTION. 

Between Eighth and Ninth Ave- 
nues in one of the Fifties, there is 



a row of brown-stone houses all alike, 
and into#the basement of one of these 
Campbell led me. 

I am careful about the location of 
the house, because 1 believe some one 
has rented it since MacGregor gave 
it up, and I do not wish the people to 
be embarrassed in any way. 

The neighbor on Campbell's right, 
so he told me, kept " roomers," hav- 
ing a card in the parlor window to 
that effect, while the neighbor on the 
left kept dogs — little, white, woolly 
beasts — which were bred in the music- 
room and sold in the parlor. 

They were all queer animals who 
lived in that street, coming out of their 
houses like winter clothes emerging 
from among the moth-balls ; musty, 
dusty people, with pasts and presents, 
and Heaven knows what futures. 

So Campbell excited no particular 
attention. 

He had rented the house furnished, 
he informed me. Beans and the rest 
knew nothing of his connection with 
any other establishment or life than 
that. They knew where he lived, and / 
when people are thoroughly satisfied 
that they have one's address they do 
not seem to feel the necessity for 
searching further. 

R. M. Campbell, gentleman at lei- 
sure, of Central Park West and several 
Fifth Avenue clubs, and Robert Mac- 
Gregor. of Fifty — Street, and the 
" Clachan of Aberfoyle," were two 
distinct personalities, though he adopt- 
ed no disguise except the clothes he 
wore, and the Scotch accent he af- 
fected. 

On Fifth Avenue he dressed ac- 
cordingly. In Fifty — Street, and as 
the proprietor of a disreputable sa- 
loon, his attire created no comment, 
because it talked loudly enough to si- 
lence all argument. 

I could understand that quite plain- 
ly when he removed his coat. There 
was no mistaking the language of that 
screeching check suit or of the great 
diamond that gleamed beneath a revo- 
lutionary tie. The links of his watch- 



760 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



chain were of the proper size and 
weight, stretching - from pocket to 
pocket of a waistcoat, which " fancy " 
does not even hint at. 

He carried it all as though to the 
manner born, with a bluster to which 
his height and breadth lent emphasis, 
and his huge, hairy hands gave me a 
keener understanding of why Batch, 
the negro, had collapsed so suddenly. 

With the shades carefully drawn, 
and one incandescent burner shedding 
its light upon us, we sat down in the 
dining-room. 

Apparently there was no one else in 
the house. A piano across the street 
played ragtime, accompanied by a 
chorus of voices in several other keys. 

The rumble of the trams and Ele- 
vated trains joined in at intervals, and 
in the lulls we were granted the sound 
of occasional footsteps could be heard 
with remarkable distinctness. 

Some of the passers-by shuffled 
along as if their shoes were unlaced, 
conveying to my mind the vision of a 
large white pitcher that would be filled 
at the corner shop. Others brought 
their feet down sharply, others am- 
bled. 

As Campbell turned from the regu- 
lation furnished-house sideboard, bear- 
ing a bottle and glasses and cigars, 
which he deposited upon the table. I 
was going to say something about feet; 
but instead I pulled the check he had 
given me from my pocket and laid it 
down before him. 

"That," I said deliberately, "has 
got to have a proper explanation be- 
fore I will have anything to do with it. 
You have been very liberal with just 
enough information to make me un- 
comfortable, and I object to being 
Smith, even for fifty thousand dollars. 
A lot of good the fifty would do me if 
that chap Beans sent me out!" 

Campbell made up two high-balls — 
so he called them — and slid the cigars 
nearer to me. The check he ignored 
completely. 

" Chin-chin." he said listlessly, and 
raised his glass. 



I nodded and we drank. 

" It's a pity that little political man 
interrupted us at the Clachan, Camp- 
bell ; but there are two things I've kept 
my hands clear of — machine politics 
and murder. I don't know which is 
worse. Take up the check. It's yours 
since it is in part payment for your 
life." 

" But, man alive — " 

" It's strange, I'll admit, but if you'll 
look at it this way it won't seem so in- 
definite. You know what Rollins 
wants, and perhaps you have gathered 
that I have no intention of letting him 
have it. If I had I would not have 
got Sysonsby to tell you that pretty 
little story he did — you remember?" 

"That was your idea?" 

" I apologize for the hackneyed na- 
ture of it. In fact, I thought it too 
raw altogether, but you helped us 
wonderfully by talking of Rollins 
without a lead of any sort. You were 
very easy. But do you think that if I 
wanted to have you killed I'd choose 
your friends to conspire with?" 

" I suppose not. How much of 
what you've told me does Sysonsbv 
know?" 

" Nothing. He believes it is sim- 
ply a trick to bring the two branches 
of your family together again — with 
a possible romance at the end of it. I 
want to hire your services for a few- 
weeks, for wMch I am willing to pay 
the amount of the mortgage on the 
lodge — " 

"Using ;Rollins's money — what ? " 

" No, man — no — my money. Rol- 
lins's fifty thousand is going into an 
up-town bank to make life real to 
some one I know, and I'll make it 
worth double that to you if you'll as- 
sist me get it away from him." 

" Hang it all, man ! You speak as 
if I was a chum of Bill Sikcs. Don't 
you realize that the thing is theft?" 

" I never steal," Campbell said 
quietly. " I collect debts. My boys 
are paid a weekly salary and a com- 
mission on their collections just like 
the collectors for any other charitable 



A . THIEVES' COMEDY. 761 



organization. Mine are a little better 
paid, perhaps, because their work is a 
little more dangerous. 

" If I did not employ them they 
could employ themselves promiscu- 
ously and get into trouble. It is in 
their blood — a clot on the brain — and 
all I do is to direct their endeavors in 
a sort of justifiable channel. People 
who give need never be afraid of get- 
ting one of our calling-cards. 

" But Rollins and his kind, who play 
Scrooge from year's beginning to 
year's end, are always likely to hear 
from us, and the louder they squeal 
the better we like it, and the oftener 
we call. 

" Every man owes a certain per- 
centage of his income to the man who 
has less — and we simply collect what 
the fortunate owes the unfortunate — 
and won't pay. Since the debtor in 
this case happens to be Rollins, I in- 
tend to collect, even if the cost of col- 
lection is double the debt. The price 
is your affair." 

It was a quaint argument of the sort 
that would readily command sympa- 
thy, particularly among the " unfor- 
tunate," who are appallingly in the 
majority. I did not argue the point, 
but asked after a short pause: 

" How am I to help if I don't know 
what I am to do? And what reason 
have you to suppose that I won't cash 
this check and go off somewhere in 
the night? I could, very easily, you 
know, since you can't possibly go to 
law about it." 

" And there you have Rollins's po- 
sition exactly," Campbell declared at 
once. " He can't make any fuss about 
his fifty, and any he does make will 
be made to me. You do not enter into 
the matter actively at all. 

" All you have to do shall be to play 
the part of Mr. Mason — Campbell's 
friend — and accept Rollins's invita- 
tion to go slumming when it comes. 
I'll take care of the rest." 

" But you don't suppose I would go 
into a thing like this without knowing 
what is actually going to happen ? " 



" Nothing will happen — at least, 
not to you. You will leave the Clach- 
an as I directed you to-night, and 
you'll do it when a red lights shows in 
that signal lamp you saw. Rollins 
won't be with you at the time. He 
will be at the bar telling Crabbe about 
Smith." 

" Crabbe! " 

" Crabbe — spelled with two ' b's ' 
and an ' e.' He will misunderstand 
Rollins thoroughly." 

" And what is going to happen to 
Rollins?" 

" That does not concern you." 

" I'm afraid it does. He may be 
all kinds of a rotter, but I am hanged 
if I will be a party to anything of that 
sort." 

"What sort?" the question was 
very quiet. 

You know what I mean." 

" You have forgotten that I drove 
that taxi to-night. Do you think I 
would soil my hands with Margaret's 
father's blood? " 

" I suppose not," I stammered. 

Campbell's eyebrows fell suddenly, 
and he peered at me from under them 
in keen interrogation. 

" Man — but ye have a poor opeenion 
o' my intelligence. If I ever want to 
kill a man I'll no' pit my guilt on the 
end o' anither's tongue and risk it wag- 
gin' in State's evidence against me. 
Na, na, man ; dinna fash yersel' aboot 
Rollins farm' weel or ill. Are ye no' 
far enough intae an ugly business with- 
out wantin' tae gang farther? " 

I got upon my feet slowly. 

" Yes, I'm afraid I've gone too far 
into a very ugly business. Your mo- 
tives may be excellent, and this chap 
Rollins may deserve a jolly good 
hiding, but I can't possibly take his 
money that way. 

" Oh, yes, it's his! " I continued, as 
he seemed likely to protest. " Paying 
me over your name is only a subter- 
fuge- — I mean — it doesn't alter the 
thing in my eyes a bit. Of course, 
everything you've told me is perfectly 
safe with me, and I have to thank you 



762 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



for one of the most interesting eve- 
nings of my life. 

" In fact, I hate like the dickens to 
drop out, as I'd like, from sheer in- 
quisitiveness, to know why you began 
this sort of thing - , and how you man- 
age to keep out of jail. But it's quite 
impossible for me to — " 

The basement bell suddenly inter- 
rupted me. 

Campbell sprang to his feet. 

" Wheest! • That's Delia! " he whis- 
pered, and moved toward the door 
leading to the hall. 

" Delia? " I queried blankly. 

He stopped and turned his head. 

" I beg your pardon — Miss Bor row- 
man — my wife — to be." 

CHAPTER XIV. 

DELLA AND THE GOBBLER. 

HE left me standing gaping at the 
door, and it was then, while I awaited 
his return, that I had my first suspi- 
cion that he was not quite right in the 
head. 

A chap like him marrying — 

The scuffle of feet in the hall inter- 
rupted my thoughts, and, seeing the 
check upon the table, I seized it and 
stuffed it into my pocket. In an in- 
stant more the door was flung open, 
and a girl, scarcely more than a child, 
came into the room. 

Campbell followed her directly. 

For a moment the newcomer and I 
regarded each other in mute surprise. 
I haven't the least idea of what she 
thought of me. but there is no question 
about what I thought of her. 

From under a light silk shawl one 
received a hint of the jet-black crown 
of her hair that was so wonderful un- 
der the lamplight — or any light, for 
that matter. 

Her features were small, but she was 
not so pretty as she was compelling. 
One looked at her once, twice, and then 
a third time to make sure one's first 
impression was correct; and each time 
one passed lightly over the mouth, chin, 



and nose — all right in their way — to 
study the remarkable deep blue of 
her eyes and the equally remarkable 
inky-black eyebrows that o'ershadowed 
them. 

She was prettily clothed in a man- 
ner that did not stifle the round lines 
of her lithe, young figure, and gave no 
indication of her relationship to the 
Borrowman tribe — and then, in that 
moment when I looked for her to smile 
in conjunction with the inevitable in- 
troduction, she turned her head shaqD- 
ly and glanced up into Campbell's face. 

" Who's this guy? " 

The tone, harshly imperative, and 
the final word dissipated everything. A 
cold shiver ran down my spine. 

The gentleman is my friend — Mr. 
Mason," Campbell replied gravely with- 
out winking an eyelash, and inclined 
his head toward me. '' Mr. Mason, 
allow me to introduce you to my 
fiancee — Miss Borrowman." 

I bowed. 

" Charmed to meet Miss Borrow- 
man. Mav I offer my congratula- 
tions?" 

The girl's eyes came round upon me 
slowly. Her body did not move; just 
her head. 

" You're English, ain't you?" 

Judging by her tone, my nationality 
was a crime ; but I admitted it. 

"Huh! All right. If the Grega- 
rach's satisfied, it ain't up to me to 
lose any sleep about it." 

Her hand searched for the back of 
Campbell's chair as she sized me up, 
and when she found it she crept round 
it slowly. 

" I'm tired, Mac — played out. The 
Gobbler ain't giv' me a chanst for a 
snooze in forty hours. Gee ! — but 
kids is the limit when they git goin'." 

She dropped limply and suddenly 
into the chair. Campbell was at her 
side, bending over her in a moment, 
and it did not strike me as being hu- 
morous when he got down upon a knee 
and took possession of her hands. 

"Poor little girl! I'm sorry. It's 
too much for you, isn't it? " 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



763 



His voice softened and his" manner 
became fatherly. 

" No, it ain't too much," the girl 
answered, and, in spite of my presence, 
her head sneaked nearer to his shoul- 
der. " But I was worried stiff las' 
night, thinkin' he was sure goin' to 
holler hisself into kingdom come afore 
mornin'. I guess he had a pain some- 
wheres, and, as he ain't able to say 
where, he just opens his face and lets 
it rip. He was sleepin' w'en I left." 

" But the nurse — couldn't she — " 

" I fired her yes'day mornin'," Delia 
interrupted disgustedly, and Camp- 
bell's mouth twisted as if he wanted 
to laugh, but did not dare to. " She 
didn't- do nothin' I couldn't get by 
with myself, and I guessed you could 
use the little fifty a mont' some ways 
else. Nessie wouldn't of stood for it. 
You know she wouldn't. She'd 'a' 
took the Gobbler and beat it some- 
wheres — and woiked for him — an' 
she'd never have let a man that 
ain't — " 

"Delia!" The warning was low. 
I saw the girl search Campbell's face 
affrightedly. His expression was a 
little harder. 

" I forgot," Delia pleaded. " I 
wussent to say that again — but — 
but " — her attention was riveted sud- 
denly upon ine — " what's he hangin' 
aroun' for? If he's spieled his little 
piece, why don't he beat it ? " 

Campbell nodded to me and smiled. 
Mr. Mason is going to call upon 
the Gobbler with me — when we take 
you home to-night." 

"He is — eh?" Again I came un- 
der the censorship of those great blue 
eyes. *' What's your graft? You a 
new member? " 

Campbell laughed softly while I 
looked foolish. 

" Mr. Mason is not a new member," 
my host answered for me. " But he 
is almost as anxious to find Smith as 
we are, and will be pleased to meet 
the Gobbler on that account." 

"Gee!" 

Delia scrutinized me thoroughly 



this time, as if she were searching for 
the cause of my antipathy to Smith. 

" Say — if you lamp him first put me 
wise, will you? I'd do the same for 
you." 

The eagerness of the question and 
the evident genuineness of her offer 
kept my face straight, and I nodded. 
The little hard lines about her mouth 
softened instantly. 

" Is that on the level ? " 

" On the level," I answered, and felt 
a twinge of cdnscience, since I knew 
very well I should never keep my 
promise. 

Smothering a smile. Campbell 
glanced at his watch and rose. 

" Twelve o'clock and all's well," he 
announced sonorously. " And now 
that there is a bond of understanding 
between you, we shall cement it with 
a glimpse of the Gobbler. May we be 
permitted to spend money on a taxi, 
Miss Economy? " 

Delia looked up quickly. 

" Not on your life. I didn't fire 
that noice so's we could ride roun' in 
buzz-wagons. I jus' seen the receip' ' 
for the rent yes'day. an", gee, I a'most 
choked ! The agen' handed it to me 
by mistake. Seven'y - five bucks a 
mont' — an' I knows famblies what's 
livin' on eight per. 

'' All them glad rags me an' the 
Gobbler's gotta wear, too, must ha' 
stood you up for a pile o' rocks. Ev'ry 
time I pipe a hock-shop I gotta hit the 
high places to keep from slippin' in to 
see what I could raise on them. I feel 
like a walkin' meal-ticket for a dozen 
o' them poor guys in the bread-line, 
an' I jus' hate to have the little sawn- 
off what sells pencils at the foot 
o' the ' L ' station stairs lamp me as I 
blow by.'' 

^ " That's all right, little girl," said 
Campbell gently. " We'll forego the 
extravagance of a taxi and take 
the ' It," 

" Already! I ain't been here a 
minute." 

" And you haven't slept for forty 
hours," Campbell reminded her. 



764 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Her long- black lashes swept swiftly 
upward; but. as there was no surren- 
der in the quiet authority of Camp- 
bell's expression, her hand went out 
undecidedly to the lowest button on his 
coat. 

" I — I don*t care about that now.'* 
she said in a very low voice. " 1 ain't 
seen you but once in a mont'. an' — 
an'—" 

I smiled, bowed, took the hint and 
my hat. and went out. But I caught 
a glimpse of Campbell's face as I 
passed. 

He did not look happy. 

I waited for them at the outer door, 
"wondering. L could not explain it, 
however, and. in any case, a chap 
should never attempt to explain an- 
other fellow's matrimonial intentions. 

Of course, I guessed who the " Gob- 
bler " was — the dead Borrowman girl's 
baby — and in those few minutes I was 
tempted to fly from the whole thing. 
But I stayed. 

Generally speaking, inquisitiveness 
was probably my principal reason for 
doing so; and I believed Campbell's 
story the more upon remembering that 
Rollins had spoken of introducing me 
to the slums. 

But, even with that memory in evi- 
dence against him, I laughed at the 
idea of the little beast wanting to mur- 
der me! The thing wasn't of the 
twentieth century at all. 

I thought it would be in perfect 
keeping if I ran oft" with his daughter. 

Campbell and his fiancee joined me 
in a very little while, cutting short my 
cogitation, and on the journey up- 
town I studied them both in a careful 
way, observing that the girl was 
watching me closely, though she asked 
no questions. 

That the Gregarach had vouched 
for me was apparently enough, and it 
was very evident that she loved him. 
It showed sometimes when she looked 
up into his face, and in the,, way she 
snuggled near to him like a tired child 
and held surreptitiously to the great 
little finger of his left hand. 



I had a suspicion he had lectured her 
in the few minutes I had left them 
alone. She seemed chastened and did 
not speak all the way to One Hundred' 
and Tenth Street. 

So long as she kept silent one would 
rtever have suspected her origin or the 
latent savagery that smoldered behind 
the childlike simplicity of her face. 

We were an odd trio, totally dis- 
parate in our outlook upon life; but in 
a pink-and-white bedroom in an ele- 
vator apartment - house on Cathedral 
Parkway, to which Delia led us as if 
she were ashamed to live there, we 
came very near to each other mentally 
round the crib of the Gobbler. 

He was a splendid little chap, fast 
asleep, holding on to the neck of his 
bottle like grim death, while some- 
thing like a smile hovered in the cor- 
ners of his baby mouth. 

I liked the Gobbler at once without 
a second's hesitation, and for a while 
watched him breathe, as if it were the 
most remarkable thing in the world. 

Of course, I was sorry for him — 
poor, nameless little chap — and had 
Rollins come into the room then I 
would surely have thrashed him, even 
at the risk of waking the Gobbler. 

And as I looked down upon hhn, 
nestling so snugly amid the downy 
whiteness of his pillows, and quite 
unconscious of the fact that both 
Campbell and Delia were eying me 
very closely, I had a sudden under- 
standing of why I had been brought 
to see him. 

Looking up, I found Delia's eyes 
upon me, then Campbell's. 

" The fifty thousand," I whispered 1 
to the latter, " is for — him? " 

Campbell inclined his head, while 
Delia, glancing interrogatively at us 
both, showed plainly that she did not 
understand. ^ 

The Gobbler stirred, and his little 
fingers, loosening their hold upon the 
bottle, slid beneath the covers. Delia 
bent over him instantly, neither touch- 
ing him nor making any sound — just 
watching. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



765 



I looked toward Campbell again, 
and found him smiling; and, obeying 
a slight movement of his head, tiptoed 
after him into the hall and to the liv- 
ing-room. 

" Well?" 

The monosyllable needed no expla- 
nation. I pulled the check from my 
pocket. 

" All right — but just for fun, you 
know. You can tear that up and make 
out a new one — for the Gobbler." 

He took the check, folded it care- 
fully, and slipped it into one of the 
pockets of that hideous waistcoat of 
his. 

" You must be of the fifth genera- 
tion," he said with a whimsical smile, 
and held out his hand. 

My fingers tingled with the pressure 
of his. 



CHAPTER XV. 

LOSING NO TIME. 

Curiously enough, I slept soundly 
that night. 

For a little while I turned things 
over in my mind, wondering where I 
would land; and then I started up in 
response to the appearance of a red 
light in the signal-lamp beside the 
Clachan's barroom door — and almost 
fell out of bed. 

But now that I can view the matter 
sanely, I marvel at how little it affected 
me at the time. The element of adven- 
ture appealed to me; and I think one's 
mind can adapt itself quite cheerfully 
to almost any condition of affairs. 

But I shrank from lunching with 
Rollins at his club the following day. 
and when he offered his hand I could 
have struck him. 

Yet I took it, remembering where 
we were and my promise. 

His fingers were like ice, and I 
thought his eyes were even more shifty 
than usual. When he talked I expect- 
ed him at any moment to declare him- 
self, but he didn't just then. 

I began to notice little things that 



had escaped my attention before, and 
not one of them made me like him any 
better. He bullied the waiter in a 
sneaking sort of way, and smirked and 
squinted out of the corners of his eyes 
at the people round about. 

His conversation driveled and ar- 
rived -nowhere. It bored me insuffer- 
ably, so that I prayed he would find an 
evening suitable for my " demise " 
very soon. Once or twice I almost 
suggested one. 

It was a considerable relief to get 
away from him for the afternoon; but 
when I reached my hotel more trouble 
awaited me in the form of a small 
package accompanied by a note; liter- 
ally " just a line." 

Please make as much as you can for 
— us. Smith & Nelson, Broad Street, 
will take the commission on a ten- 
point margin. 

Makgarf.t. 

Us! 

I felt peculiarly soothed, pleasantly 
conscious that I was no longer alone 
in the world ; and it occurred to me 
that I must have been terribly lonely — 
yesterday, even though I hadn't ' no- 
ticed it particularly. 

The jewels gave me a chill. Mar- 
garet must have collected everything 
in the line of jewelry that she owned 
for me to pawn. There were several 
rings; plain gold and diamond-studded 
bracelets, pearls and other neck adorn- 
ments, and a tiara sort of thing. 

I had no idea of their worth, but I 
locked my doors and pulled the shades, 
and in miserlike gloom contemplated 
Margaret's brilliant toys, striving to 
believe that it would be quite proper 
for me to pawn them. 

The effort was not successful; yet I 
realized that if I did not do as she 
asked she would be sure to raise the 
dickens, and that I could not take ad- 
vantage of her tip if I deprived her, 
by my squeamishness, of the chance to 
make many thousands of dollars. 

I spent a rather miserable Sunday 
afternoon, noting the addresses of sev- 
eral " uncles " who might accommo- 



766 



THE ALL- STORY MAGAZINE. 



date me; it being borne upon me that 
it would not be advisable to take every- 
thing to one shop, as the pawnbroker 
would be sure to think I had stolen 
them. 

When Rollins called for me that 
evening to introduce me to the interior 
of a Fifth Avenue church, I had the 
stuff nicely arranged and my itinerary 
for the following day carefully mapped 
out. 

I can't tell you anything about that 
church; and the proper time to see 
Fifth Avenue on Sunday, as every one 
knows, is after the morning service, 
when it vies with Solomon and the lily 
combined, and looks like the pages of 
the fashion magazines out for a walk. 

My mind sacrilegiously was too 
busy elsewhere, and half the time I was 
studying Rollins's piously intent ex- 
pression, which declared that the ser- 
mon, for him, was a very serious 
matter. 

As I walked with him to his club 
afterward, he declared that it was a 
pleasant relief, in the midst of so much 
evidence of the mean and ugly, to get 
away from it all for an hour and two 
and listen to a good man speak of high- 
er things. 

" Usually/' he continued. " my 
daughter accompanies me every Sun- 
day morning, but she did not feel quite 
equal to it to-day. In fact, while I 
was lunching with you. she fainted. 
She is not very strong, poor child.*' 

" Oh, I'm sorry/' I sympathized. 
" I hope it is nothing serious." 

" I hope not." Rollins declared, sha- 
king his head dolefully. " But a 
parent's anxiety has no end. Mason — 
no end. Fortunately, my daughter's 
future is pleasantly assured, but I 
would like to see her gaining strength. 
Poor little girl, she is so fond of me, 
and she appreciates how much it hurts 
me to find her so pale and indifferent 
to the lighter side of life."' 

" Perhaps I am detaining you." T 
suggested hopefully, as we approached 
the entrance to the club. " I am sure 
you would rather — " 



" No — no — it isn't as bad as that, 
you know," he assured me hurriedly. 
" She will very likely be all right in 
the morning. Let's go in and talk for 
a while." 

We went into the smoking-room — 
to a quiet corner of it — and talked — or 
at least he did — until I was bored to the 
yawning point. No one came near us, 
and I imagined that Rollins could rind 
seclusion almost anywhere. There was 
something about him, apart from his 
eyes and his cravats, that repelled ; the 
sort of something dogs and babies don't 
like in a man. 

Then, as I was on the verge of pro- 
posing an adjournment, apropos of 
nothing at all, he said : 

We have something in the city 
which is rather unique." 

" Yes? What is that? " 

" Organized theft. Didn't you read 
of that case in Yonkers a few days 
ago?" 

He did not look at me as he spoke, 
and>uy surprise might have been quite 
natural. 

" No. What was it ? " 

" The Rob Roy gang, which has 
been famous in New York for nearly 
two years, left its card upon a man 
named Berman, after opening his safe 
like a match-box and taking everything 
worth while out of it." 

" Is that so? Rather cheeky — 
what?" 

" Cheeky ! " he exclaimed indignant- 
ly. " It is more grave than mere im- 
pertinence. It is a blot upon the city 
and a sneer at the police and what they 
represent. No householder can con- 
sider himself safe while those parasites 
remain at large. I've studied them, 
and I know them. I've gone down 
into their filthy dens and looked them 
over from head to foot." 

He appeared to be very much con- 
cerned. 

" You must have done quite a lot of 
slumming," I suggested. " Interest- 
ing, isn't it? " 

I knew that was terribly raw. but I 
hate to see a man beating about the 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



767 



bush, particularly if the thing he is 
looking for isn't in the bush at all, but 
out in the open. 

" Quite," he conceded. " But filthy 
— very filthy. I was speaking to a man 
I used to meet in Hell's Kitchen — his 
name is Crabbe — and he told me that 
the particularly vile saloon I used to 
study types in is still in existence in 
that neighborhood. And I understand 
that this Rob Roy gang frequents that 
quarter. 

*' Crabbe said he would possibly be 
down there Wednesday evening, and 
that he would vouch for our safety, if 
you cared to look over the district that 
is considered to be quite as debased as 
Whitechapel." 

He stopped there, waiting for some 
response to the invitation, and I felt 
a cold shiver run through me. I don't 
know whether he noticed it or not, but 
I sidled away from him as if he were 
not quite clean. Then, somehow, I 
caught at a hint of humor in the busi- 
ness, and for a few moments, in sheer 
devilment, I held my peace, watching 
him squirm upon the rack of uncer- 
tainty, while he seemed afraid to look 
into my face in case he might find re- 
fusal there. 

" What is this chap — this Crabbe? " 
I asked carefully. 

" Well " — a sickly smile and an un- 
certain movement of the hand — " that 
is — to tell the truth, I'd rather not say. 
But I fancy he knows what a warden 
looks like." 

" That makes him an interesting 
person. Wednesday evening, did you 
say? " 

Rollins's face cleared instantly. 

" Yes — Wednesday. We'll dine here 
and go right down afterward. How 
will that do?" 

" I am at your disposal, sir." 

Pie smiled, signed to a waiter, and, 
ordering " two more," was positively 
cheerful for the remainder of the 
evening, the anxieties of fatherhood 
seeming to have completely slipped 
his memory. 

But, then, it isn't every man who 



can arrange two " killings " to come 
off on the same day — Rand Island's 
and mine ! 

CHAPTER XVI. 

AT NOSPIM'S. 

I was uncertain on Monday morn- 
ing whether I was fortunate or un- 
fortunate in having the forenoon to 
mysel f . 

Rollins was unpleasant to have 
about one, but the idea of bearding 
several pawnbrokers in their dens 
was still more so. However, I sallied 
forth bravely. 

Out of some five millions of people, 
probably a dozen knew me, yet I dilly- 
dallied about the doors of the first 
shop, fearful that I would be seen and 
recognized as 1 went in ; and when I 
did enter the place I am sure I wore a 
hunted look, because I felt as if half 
the police of the city were after me. 

There were a man and a woman 
waiting at a pigeonholed window, 
over which was printed " Pledges." 1 
joined them and was scrutinized from 
head to foot in one glance that gave 
me the impression that I intruded. 

The man had thrust a watch and 
some other trifles through the pigeon- 
hole, and was anxiously — hungrily, in 
fact — watching the clerk examine 
them. 

''Fifteen dollars," the latter an- 
nounced in an inflectionless voice. 
" Eh?" 

"Fifteen dollars." 

" Gee ! An' I need — can't you make 
it—" 

" Fifteen dollars." 

There was no change in the clerk's 
tone or expression, but that of the 
man who owned the things under- 
went lightninglike alterations. Sur- 
prise gave way to annoyance, annoy- 
ance to indecision, indecision to a 
hang-dog look of resignation. His 
shoulders seemed to droop a little, his 
chin and his knees to sag. There wasn't 
any life to his mumbled " All right." 



768 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



When he received his check for the 
cash, payable at the cashier's window, 
the woman took his place. She was a 
large-boned, capable person — had a 
locket with some diamonds in it — and 
fixed the clerk with a militant eye as 
he examined the stones through his 
jeweler's glass. 

" Fifty dollars." 

"Huh! Xothin* doin'. I want 
seven'y-five. Them di-minds ain't the 
stage kind, sonny."' 

"If they were, madam. I could pos- 
sibly loan more than you ask. Next, 
please." 

" You're the fresh guy, ain't you?" 
the woman almost screeched, her face 
going red as a beet. " You're a gen- 
tleman, you are, insultin' a lady as 
ain't got no brothers or a husband to 
come down an' knock your block off. 
You think 'cause you gotta piece o' 
plate-glass protectin' your ugly mug 
as you can hand out any line o' talk. 
What chanst has a woman in this 
town when littile. hammered-down — " 

The clerk pressed a button near at 
hand and a buzzer was heard some- 
where behind the partition. 

" Next, please." 

The woman's flow of language 
ceased. She seemed undecided, and 
the locket still lay where the clerk- 
pushed it out to her. She thrust it 
back again slowly. No one answered 
the buzzer. 

" Fifty's your limit, heh?" 

" Fifty is our limit, madam." 

" I got seven'y-five — " 

" Fifty dollars, madam, or noth- 
ing-" Sj 

The militant attitude departed, and 

a sii'Iky one took its place. 

'* Gimme fifty." 

It is always that way. 

I started off with the pendant. 

" Let me have what you can on that, 
please." 

The clerk took it, glanced question- 
ingly at me and departed. 

At once I imagined he was going to 
telephone to the police or something 
like that. A cold perspiration broke 



out upon my forehead, and I stood 
first upon one foot then the other, 
painting mental pictures of myself be- 
ing taken down Broadway handcuffed 
to a policeman, with a mob of small 
boys and others trailing behind. And 
just as I had hit upon a fairly respect- 
'able lie, the fellow appeared again. 

" We can loan you twelve hundred 
on this if you want that much." 

" Thanks. A thousand will do." 

I thought that was- rather clever. It 
disarmed suspicion at once. The pen- 
dant vanished ; a cash-slip and the 
ticket took its place. 

" At the cashier's window, sir." 

Just as I had been afraid to come in 
1 was equally afraid to go out; but I 
did it, and went on to the second place, 
which was Xospim's. the shop .Mar- 
garet had recommended. 

This time 1 did not hesitate, but 
rushed the citadel with a determined, 
businesslike air, not giving any one a 
chance to know what I was after. The 
line was a little longer there, but I 
finally got to the window and tried 
two rings, and again the clerk depart- 
ed and returned. 

I got seven hundred and fifty for 
the two. 

Going out, I took a squint at my list 
of addresses, and a yard or two from 
the pawn-shop door some one sudden- 
ly walked by my side and did not go 
away. Turning my head quickly I en- 
countered the deep blue eyes of Delia! 

" Why—" 

She smiled, and there was a sort of 
admiration in the look she gave me. 

*' Gee ! You got a gall ! " 

I raised my hat nervously and in- 
stinctively moved further away from 
the pawn-shop. 

"How are you? This is an unex- 
pected pleasure ! " 

The girl made no reply to that, but 
took hold of my arm in the most natu- 
ral way — as if she had been engaged 
to me for years, you know — and we 
had gone several yards before I real- 
ized that she had assumed complete 
charge of me. 



A THIEVE 

m 

" You ain't no piker," she declared, 
white I was wondering whether I 
should ask her how she came to be 
there. " My dope on Englishmen wuz 
that thej' wuz mushy. You may look 
it, but I gotta tip my lid to any guy 
what hit's Nospim's wit' grafted goods 
and gets away wit' it." 

She spoke very quietly, and the roar 
of Broadway muffled it to all but me. 

" With what sort of goods? " 

" Aw, I'm wise. You can't play no 
Santa Claus wit' me. I cpiit bein' 
fooled afore my stockin' wuz big 
'nough to hold anythin'. I ain't asked 
you where you grabbed it, have I? " 

" Grabbed — Good 'Heavens ! You 
don't suppose I — " 

I stopped. Delia's eyes and mine 
met for a moment or two. 

" Can that," she said quietly at last. 
" Did you soak Xospim's wit' the 
bunch? Or is that hunk o' somethin' 
what's bumpin' my fifth rib some 
more? " 

She was clinging very tightly to my 
arm, and the case containing the neck- 
lace was in my coat-pocket on that 
side; but her deduction flabbergasted 
me. 

" You're the rawest I ever seen," 
she informed me before I could frame 
a reply to her question. " Mebbe that's 
how you get by. You don't look as if 
you'd have noive 'nough to stick up a 
guy wit' gout in both feet. But I 
guess you were wise 'nough to go slow 
wit' Nospim's. What you got lef?" 

It was plain that argument was use- 
less, and Broadway was no place for 
a discussion of that sort, and since I 
could not explain why I had been to 
Nospim's, I had to suffer in silence. 

"You were shopping, I suppose?" 
I asked in an effort to change the sub- 
ject. 

Delia studied me again, this time 
with a trace of hostility. 

" Sure — I wuz shoppin'," she 
agreed. " I wuz down at a hardware 
store buyin' dumb-bells for the Gob- 
bler. But if you don' mind we'll strike 
the ' sub ' somewhere's an' beat it up- 
4 S 



' COMEDY. 769 

town. I ain't got all mornin' to see 

the sights wit' you. Thoity-Thoid's 

nearest." 

" But, Miss Borrowman. I — " 

" Cut out the molasses. We're goin' 

to a safe place. Got me? " 
- We are what? " 

" You've got it," she said dryly, and 
plunged me into the maelstrom of 
traffic at Thirty-Fourth Street so sud- 
denly that there was nothing for it 
but to go on to prevent us both from 
being killed. 

Reaching the opposite curb alive, I 
made bold to ask : 

" Do you mind telling me where you 
are taking me to? " 

" Hold your horses an' you'll see," 
she replied, and took a still firmer grip 
of my arm. 

Fur a little while I "held my 
horses." and we walked up Thirty- 
Fourth Street at a fair pace. 

There was. as before, no fault to 
find with Delia's clothes. She was the 
target for many eyes, and 1 suppose 
some of the men envied me. 

Nearing Fifth Avenue I asked as 
mildly as possible: 

" You saw me go into Nospim's?" 

" Sure I seen you. What'd you 
think I was there for?" 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE SAFE PLACE. 

A SHAFT of light penetrated the 
darkness instantly. 

" You mean that Mac — " I began. 

" Gee. but you're the little wise- 
heimer ! " Delia interrupted, and treat- 
ed me to a look of wonderful scorn. 
"It's got through, has it?" 

I admitted that it had, partly. 

" He guessed you wouldn't have 
the noive to rush Nospim's," she ex- 
plained, answering the puzzled expres- 
sion I wore. " Said as I'd most likely 
rind you hangin' roun' outside tryin' 
to look as you were bein' stood up by 
your wife. 

" But you put one over on Mac that 



770 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



time. An' on me, too. You don' 
look the part, buh-lieve me." 

I floundered about mentally for a 
bit, then inquired with some hesita- 
tion : 

" He didn't tell you where I — got 
it?" 

" Didn't tell me nothin' 'cep'. you'd 
strike Nospim's roun' ten ; an' I wuz 
jus' gettiii' mad w'en you blew aroun' 
the corner.'' 

" Oh, I see. Then I owe you an 
apology for keeping you waiting. 
Really, he ought to be more explicit 
with his instructions." 

"He should, eh?" Delia bristled 
instantly. " I guess Mac don' need to 
take no tips from you. You wuz tol' 
to make Nospim's at ten, wuzzent 
you?" 

" Er — eh — yes — something like 
that," I had to admit. 

" Well, ain't that 'nough for any 
guy what can tell the time? " 

The remainder of the way to the 
subway was covered in silence, and we 
traveled to One Hundred and Twenty- 
Fifth Street in much the same frame 
of mind. 

Clearly, so far as Delia was con- 
cerned, " Mac's " methods were above 
reproach, and she regarded my casual 
criticism in the light of an imperti- 
nence not readily to be condoned. 

I felt properly squelched when we 
reached the doors of the " safe place," 
which was not a hundred miles from 
Harlem's Broadway, and which sur- 
prised me very much in that it was just 
like an) r other pawn-shop, and much 
better in general appearance than 
most. 

I read the sign in amazement: 



THE HARLEM LOAN CO. 

Robert Mack Proprietor 



With my hand on the door-knob 1 
queried in a low tone : 



" This is— Mr? " 

" Search me," Delia returned enig- 
matically, and added : " I don't need 
to go in. Jus' plant the stuff, grab the 
coin, and beat it. They won' ask no 
questions." 

I entered gingerly, and finding no 
other customer in the place, ap- 
proached the pledge-window at once. 

A young man, brisk and business- 
like, appeared. There was nothing 
about him to distinguish him from any 
of the host of New York's young men 
who make an eighteen - dollar, ready- 
made suit look worth fifty. 

" What can I do for you, sir? " 

Tone and manner quite respectful; 
nothing in his face to indicate the 
things I thought. 

" I have some things here — rather 
valuable, you know — that I should like 
to raise a loan on. I believe you can 
accommodate me? " 

" Certainly. Let me have the arti- 
cles and I will appraise their value and 
loan you what I can on them." 

The necklace, the bracelets, two 
more rings, and the tiara passed 
through the pigeonhole in succession; 
and the clerk vanished as the others 
had done, to return in a little while 
with the question : 

" I suppose you wish to borrow 
upon those to the limit ? " 

" Yes — might as well. I'll be back 
for them on Thursday, I fancy." 

I thought I saw his lips twitch, but 
the smile got no farther than that. 

" Four thousand dollars," he intima- 
ted quietly. " How will you take it? " 

I told him, and he paid it out to me 
very carefully. As I put it away in my 
pocketbook I looked for the ticket. 

" Don't I get some sort of receipt? " 

" Not on — large quantities." he re- 
plied without the shadow of a smile. 
" I'll know you ichoi you come back." 

You have mv name on the things, 
I hope? " 

" Yes— Mr. Mason." 

That was conclusive. My name 
until that moment had not been men- 
tioned. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



771 



As I moved toward the door it was' 
pushed open and the head and shoul- 
ders of a policeman appeared. I 
stopped short and felt a chilly numb- 
ness seize me. 

" Say. Jimmie, that clock you got's 
on the blink! It's dropped four min- 
utes since yes'day." 

'• Tell it to the telegraph company," 
Jimmie retorted easily. *' How's the 
lady ? " 

" Gettin' on hue. That doctors all 
right. The wife ain't scared o' him, 
neither. She asted me to say as she 
was grateful to Mack for sendin' him 
up. Where is Mack? I ain't seen him 
in a mont' o' Sundays/' 

" He gets round every day for an 
hour or two." Jimmie answered. 
" He'll be glad to hear about your 
wife. Don't block up the doorway." 

" Excuse me," the policeman apolo- . 
gized. opening the door wider for me 
to pass nut. "' S'long, Jimmie! I'll 
tell the blonde at the soda fountain 
you was askin' for her." 

Jimmie encouraged the officer to do 
so, and 1 made my exit in the latter's 
wake, trying to appreciate all the orig- 
inality in the idea of a thief playing 
•' fence" to himself. I was not at all 
clear upon the efficacy or profit-real- 
izing power of the arrangement, but 
contented myself with the conclusions 
that, doubtless. Campbell knew what 
he was about. 

I looked around for Delia. 

She had gone. 

That evening found me at the Van 
Huysens's; we were a smaller party 
than before. Campbell was not there; 
he was understood to be out of town, 
and Robins, with the weight of pater- 
nal cares upon his tongue, intimated 
that Margaret was " not at all well," 
and that it would probably be several 
days before she could venture out with 
safety. 

I glanced across at Alice as he spoke, 
and found her studiously looking the 
other way ; later, I think she proposed 
some music simply because it took her 



out of the drawing-room. Because I 
thought so I deliberately took my stand 
beside the piano, turning the music for 
her and evidently surprising her by 
performing the duty at the right time. 

"You know music. Mr. — Mason?" 
she asked, gathering courage while 
she searched for a second piece. 

" Enough to know the notes go up 
and down," 1 answered, squinting 
through the parted portieres into the 
drawing-room, where my hostess, Rol- 
lins, and Ralph were engaged in an 
apparently earnest conversation. " Mr. 
Campbell plays and sings rather well, 
don't you think ? " 
I suppose so." 

Very dryly, as if she were too little 
interested in the gentleman to bother 
about anything he did. 

" We have heard him so often, I'm 
afraid we've neglected to appreciate 
his talents. You are enjoying your 
visit. I In ipe ? " 

" Very much, thanks. So far it has 
been very interesting." 

1 Ier face was turned away, but, in 
pretense of looking more closely at the 
piece of music she had selected, I 
leaned a little nearer to her. 

"Do you mind telling me if you, 
know anything of your butler's ante- 
cedents? " 

Her head came round quickly at the 
question. 

" Why do you ask? " 

" Because I've seen him before some- 
where, and I'm afraid he has a better 
memory than I have." 

Contrary to my expectations, Alice 
showed no trace of alarm. She simply 
smiled. 

" That might be awkward," she 
said, and placed the second offering on 
the music-rest. " But there isn't much 
danger. Randor is a friend of mine." 

"' Her lingers ran lightly over the 
kevs. 

"Randor?" I repeated. "That 
sounds familiar." 

" Does it? You used to play cricket 
quite a lot, didn't you? " 

" Cricket ? Jove ! Just a second. 



772 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Yorkshire — no. Wor — no; it wasn't 
there, either. Maryle — that's it! M. 
C. C. Randor used to run things at 
the M. C. C. clubhouse. How did you 
think I'd remember that way? " 

" Because the Marylcbone Cricket 
Club's recommendation is, I think, 
Randor's only conceit. Turn the page, 
please." 

" Sorry. Better play a little louder, 
hadn't you? You don't think Randor 
would give me away, then? " 

" He would be sure to tell me first if 
he did." 

" Really? You're sure of that? " 

" Quite. Here is Uncle Theodore 
coming to find out what we are talking 
about. He's been terribly suspicious 
lately." 

Her eyes did not stray from the 
music or her fingers miss a note; but 
Rollins was at my side a few moments 
later, asking me what was my favorite 
selection. He clung to me every mo- 
ment for the remainder of the evening. 

In his car on the way home, sudden- 
ly assuming a confidential air. be 
asked, with a poor show of hesitation: 

" You were rather — impressed — by 
my niece? " 

I tried not to show my surprise at 
the interrogation. 

" I must confess I was. Why? " 

"Oh, nothing! No importance, 
really. She has a very engaging per- 
sonalis- — what? " 

" I think so." 

Rollins laughed in an unpleasant 
fashion. 

" You know. Mason, I've seen men 
lean upon that piano before while she 
played." 

" Doubtless. That does not surprise 
me." 

'• And they've all. more or less, 
taken to — poetry." ' 

" Sorry I must prove the rule. I 
couldn't write a line if I tried." 

" That's good." he commended, and 
the sneer that followed was not thick- 
ly clothed. " Because, so far. all the 
effusions have gone into the fire — in- 
cluding Campbell's." 



He actually took pleasure in telling 
me a thing like that. 

Rollins was a mean little rat. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

FROM THE VISITORS' GALLERY. 

Approximately, my partner and I 
were worth ten thousand five hundred 
dollars, and on Tuesday morning 
Rand Island was quoted at 85. 

Before lunch I had sufficient intelli- 
gence to slip down-town and, finding, 
as Margaret had said, that Smith & 
Nelson, Broad Street, would accept 
ten thousand dollars of United States 
currency and do business with me on 
a ten-per-cent margin, I managed to 
eat with Rollins at half past twelve, 
with a piece of paper in my pocketbook 
stating that one thousand shares of 
Rand Island had been bought for my 
account at 87. 

I had given no selling orders. 

Thinking it would be rather nice to 
make enough to clear the mortgage on 
the lodge — with Rollins at my elbow — 
I told him in a casual way that I should 
like to see Wall Street in action. 

" Why. of course," he agreed at 
once. " Peculiar how a man belittles 
what has become common to him. I 
never thought of it. If I am not mis- 
taken, tbere will possibly be a little 
fun on the floor to-morrow, and. if 
you like. I'll give you a glimpse of the 
exchange from the visitors' gallery. I 
may be rather busy, but there is usu- 
ally enough happening on the floor to 
keep a stranger interested." 

And as we rode down into the canon- 
like financial district on Wednesday 
morning, with the newspapers quoting 
Rand Island at 90, I found the situa- 
tion at least three thousand dollars 
funnier than it had been the day be- 
fore. 

From the gallery of the New York 
Stock Exchange one can look down 
upon men who probably represent 
more money than any other group in 
the world. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



773 



* But they don't like that in the least. 

I thought they were brokers' clerks 
at iirst until Rollins, who had piloted 
me past the doorkeeper, told me that 
even- man on the floor was a memher; 
and. with his chest out. added that the 
cheapest " seat " had sold for forty- 
eight thousand dollars, while the ma- 
jority had cost twice as much. 

There was nothing particularly 
" large " in the atmosphere, the big- 
gest things about the place being the 
great " blackboards " set into the right 
and left walls, which signal to mem- 
bers by electrically displaying their 
seat numbers that they are wanted at 
the telephone. 

The floor was strewn with papers — 
square-cut slips mostly — and sprinkled 
generously with water to keep down 
the dust. Boys in blue-gray uniforms 
scurried hither and thither, without 
any apparent objective, while members 
cither lounged about the several posts, 
answered calls or threw things — 
words, peanuts, and paper pellets — at 
one another. 

Some one beneath the gallery was 
courting laryngitis shouting some- 
thing or other at " thirty-eight thou- 
sand." 

There were half a dozen men stand- 
ing within six inches of him, paying 
not the slightest heed, and he finally 
ceased yelping, chucked a handful of 
white, square-cut slips at no head in 
particular, and strolled aimlessly up 
the floor with his hands deep in his 
pockets, not seeming to care a rap 
whether any one took any interest in 
his " thirty-eight thousand " or not. 

" Those* are the bond men,"' Rollins 
informed me, referring to the gentle- 
men under the gallery. " Bonds are 
very slow just now. But I think if 
you wait a little while, and watch post 
No. 3, there will be a stir of some sort. 
When you get tired take a stroll down 
to the curb-market. I'll meet you down- 
stairs about one.'' 

As he went out I wondered if he 
were going to appear on the floor per- 
sonally, but almost before he had 



turned the corner toward the lift I 
heard a staccato voice call : 

" Ninety-live for any part of ten 
thousand Rand Island ! " 

Turning my head, I found that men 
all over the floor were directing their 
attentions toward post No. 3, which 
had suddenly awakened into a sem- 
blance of activity, with a big, broad- 
faced man in the center of it looking 
about him heavily from under deep, 
black, bushy eyebrows. 

" Ninety-live for any part of ten 
thousand ! " he cried again, and the 
buzz of comment grew louder. 

There were no sellers. Some of the 
members round him grinned, and he 
studied them with something akin to 
disgust, until a little man with a black, 
straggling beard squeezed his way into 
their midst and piped in a squeaky 
voice : 

"' Par for ten thousand!'' 

1 ie did not get up on the seat, and 
he was almost too small to be seen 
among the crowd that was quickly con- 
verging toward post No. 3. The big 
man looked down upon him and. amid 
an excited hum, could be heard to say 
quite plainly : 

" I'd like, to call your bluff, Secken- 
dorf; but what's the use? One hun- 
dred and live for any part of ten thou- 
sand ! " 

The bid came from him with the 
sharpness of a challenge, and I knew 
the game had begun. 

Turning and elbowing his way out 
of the crowd, the little man scurried 
away. His challenger laughed, said 
something I did not catch, and, after 
a few minutes' wait, bid 1 10 for five 
thousand. 

Still no sellers. 

Considering the jumps the stock was 
taking, a strange lack of excitement 
marked the attitude of the majority of 
the members on the floor. Most of 
them looked sullen : some stood aloof 
and watched ; the others crowded about 
the big man. with an eye upon the tele- 
phone signal-boards, rushing off when 
their numbers appeared and rushing 



774 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



back again to find Rand Island a point 
or two higher than when they left 
post No. 3. 

The big man, 1 presumed, was Rol- 
lins's friend. Rollins did not appear. 

Some one sold a thousand shares at 
120, and a moment later a quiet-voiced, 
white-haired gentleman made himself 
suddenly prominent by bidding 130 for 
any part of twenty thousand. The 
big man snorted, glared at the new- 
comer, and carried the " fight " ten 
points higher. 

Perhaps a number were fooled into 
believing that it was a real fight. I 
knew better, and gave the big man 
credit for being an actor of no mean 
ability. 

His expression of surprise when 
competed with was splendid. One 
would almost believe he was surprised ; 
quite as if his competitors were not 
acting under orders from Rollins, who, 
I presumed, was pulling the wires upon 
the outside. 

There wasn't, apparently, a share of 
the stock in sight ; at least, there was 
none for sale at 150. I began to count 
my winnings at that figure when it al- 
tered to 160 with the assistance of a 
squat, square-jawed man. who did not 
leave until he had forced the big man 
to bid 175 for any part of twenty-five 
thousand. 

In spite of the ninety-point rise, it 
was as if the fun were only beginning. 
There was plenty of noise, of course; 
men screeching at the pitch of their 
voices, rushing across the floor toward 
the telephones and back again, and out 
into the street : some of them white 
and frantic-eyed, most of them making 
great use of their arms, with the big- 
man's staccato voice sounding above 
it all. 

But there did not seem to be the 
fuss that adequately represented the 
eighty-eight thousand my partner and 
I had made within half an hour. 

I had expected a sort of riot, but 
there was nothing like that : far from it, 
and I wondered what sort of a rise 
would be necessary to create one. 



I did not get in the least excited. 
The stock was sure to go up to 200; 
and so long as the big man was con- 
fident I had nothing to worry about. 
He could, as he had said, carry it to 
500 if he liked. 

There wasn't a sign of weakness, 
and I stood fascinated, watching it 
climb, ten points each jump, till it 
reached 225. 

The very little man with the strag- 
gling black beard came back and 
squeaked it up to that figure. His 
shrill, piping voice made me nervous, 
and there were many members on the 
floor who felt just as I did; wanted to 
yell but couldn't. 

One or two became rather hysterical 
in their manner; most of them talked 
very fast and seemed to run around in 
circles, as if they did not know what 
to do with themselves. 

Riot had almost come. 

One cannot describe that noise. 
Some of it came from the street. It 
isn't a bit like the roar of a baseball 
crowd, because that is a volume of 
sound in which thirty to forty thou- 
sand throats create in unison. 

The other business was a yell and 
a groan and a whisper and a low, re- 
verberant murmuring and the scuffle 
of many feet, all jumbled up together 
in one horrible, inharmonious whole 
that began and ended nowhere. 

I decided I would sell at 250, feeling 
that I would probably lose the benefit 
of a further fifty-point rise by doing 
so; and I had barely made the decision 
when the big man's staccato voice 
drowned the little man's squeak and 
his bid : 

" Two hundred and thirty-five for 
any part of twenty thousand ! " 

Something like a groan went up. I 
edged toward the gallery exit, still 
leaning over the rail, almost hypnotized 
by the seething confusion of sound and 
action below. 

" Two hundred and forty for twenty- 
five thousand ! " some one called quiet- 
ly, and I stopped to see who it was. 

The white-haired gentleman looked 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



775 



up at Rollins's friend, who jerked his 
head round and seemed to hesitate. 
Then he grinned — his lips curling hack 
from his teeth. 

"Two hundred and fifty for fifty 
thousand!" he bellowed, and there 
followed a moment's awful hush. 

" Sold the lot! " 

The answer came from underneath 
the gallery — a thunderbolt that wiped 
the smile from the big man's lips in a 
twinkling. 

Every eye turned toward a tall, dark 
member of the exchange who emerged 
from obscurity and approached Rol- 
lins's friend with a terrible calm. 

The latter went white — then gray. 
Leaning far over the rail, gaping at 
him foolishly, I saw his lips twitch and 
his glance go fearfully about him. 

Fifty thousand sold at 250! 

And there were not five thousand 
shares of Rand Island out of Rollins's 
hands within five hundred miles of 
Xcw York at that moment ! 

I couldn't move. My knees felt 
wabbly, and my mind struggled vainly 
through a fog. Dark shapes of men 
raced about below, screeching at one 
another — pandemon i 11111 . 

What happened in the succeeding 
few minutes was simply a jumble of 
incoherent things I did not understand; 
but T waited to-- see what the result 
would be. 

I could see Rollins's friend looking 
about him dazedly, as if the shock had 
numbed his faculties quite as much as 
mine: and then out of the flurry and 
above the tumult a clarion voice asked : 

" Want twenty-five thousand more 
at the price. Bailey? " 

Rollins's friend threw his head back 
as if avoiding a blow and swung upon 
his tormentor like a wildcat. 

" You heard me buy fifty thousand." 
he snarled. 

1 was far. far at sea. Something 
was all wrong somewhere. The " cor- 
ner " was a fizzle, and my head felt 
rather light as I groped 'my way toward 
the exit, praying that T might reach a 
telephone before the crash came. 



Even the door was too far. 

" All right," the twenty-five thousand 
man shouted amicably before I had 
gone three steps; " here goes. Ten 
thousand at 240 ! " 

It was like a straight right between 
the eyes. An uppercut, delivered by a 
" little " fellow anxious to unload, fol- 
lowed it a second later. 

" Five hundred at 225 ! " 

Just a moment's pause — then: 

" A thousand at 200! " 

I reached the door and took one look 
backward. Rollins's friend was totter- 
ing across the floor toward the tele- 
phones. 

Riot had come. 

" Ten thousand at T75! " 

'• Fifteen hundred at 160! " 

" A thousand at 150! " 

i; Twenty-five thousand at par!" 

My throat clogged up and there 
was a sort of mist before my eyes. 

I don't know what the doorkeeper 
thought of me. but I staggered toward 
the elevator like a drunken man, feel- 
ing that I had been betrayed. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

JUST AN ACCIDENT. 

When I reached the street I did 
not stop to study the crowd or the 
seething torment of the curb-market 
half a square further down, but raced 
madly to Smith & Xelson's office. 

There was a mob of fanatics there, 
too. crowding about the ticker, while 
some one in a deadly monotone read 
off the returns, and another worn-out- 
looking chap chalked them on a black- 
board fof all the world to see. 

I had just buttonholed some one 
whom I thought I recognized as an 
employee, and was gulping out an 
order to sell when that lifeless voice 
chanted : 

" Rand Island— 80— 77— 75— " 

It went lower than that — twenty- 
five points lower — almost quicker than 
the chap at the blackboard could write 
it down. 



776 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



My hand fell away from the lapel 
of the other man's coat, and I stared 
stupidly into his face for a moment or 
two. 

"Sorry, old chap; can't cover. I'm 
wiped out." 

W hether he heard me or not amid 
that bahel of tongues I do not know. 
He didn't say anything; just nodded 
and turned away. 

I found the street again. 

Everything was blurred, and I felt 
a little sick — light-beaded, you know? 
Faces swept past me in an incessant 
stream; some white and drawn and 
fearful; some cadaverous and sneak- 
ing; others merely curious, and some 
that laughed ! 

Jostled upon right and .left, deaf- 
ened by the roar of the curb-market, I 
wanted to get away from it — as far 
away as possible. 

Somehow or other I came to Bat- 
tery Park. 

A vacant seat beckoned me, and I 
watched in a dull sort of way the peo- 
ple go in and out of the aquarium ; 
followed the movements of the tugs 
ami lighters and ferries on the river, 
and saw a Liverpool boat sweep out 
past Governor's Island, leaving a trail 
of black smoke behind her. 

I didn't care a rap about my forty- 
five hundred. My responsibility for 
Margaret's share dwarfed that. 

If I had only sold at two hundred! 

Ahead was the blank wall of fail- 
ure; a pitilessly thick and high ar- 
rangement of facts that did not even 
take the trouble to explain themselves; 
and behind that wall — in an apartment 
up-towffl — a girl was waiting for re- 
lease from a lie and to hear that I had 
won. 

Something stuck in my throat, and 
the things round about me became un- 
certain. Margaret seemed to go a long 
way off, step by step toward the mar- 
riage that was so hateful to her — 
looking back in pitiful appeal. 

A strange heaviness descended upon 
me. I felt as if I had intruded a few 
yards into a sort of paradise and been 



suddenly and rudely chucked out into 
the gutter of the world. 

I was sorry there would be no elope- 
ment with a Christmassy effect — and 
I wanted to tell her so ; was even sel- 
fish enough to want to tell her that if 
the lack of money made no difference 
to her it made none to me. I could 
work and earn — 

There I stopped with a jerk, and 
came to my senses as if a pail of cold 
water had been thrown over me. 

I'd have to work, of course, but it 
would be bad enough for one to live 
on what I could earn ; two would prob- 
ably starve. 

Fortunately, I told myself in a fee- 
ble effort to find one little ray of sun- 
shine, Campbell's Harlem Loan Corn- 
pan}' had the bulk of the jewelry; and 
when I thought of that I wondered if 
he had been caught in the avalanche. 
Whether he had or not I felt I could 
prevail upon him to give Margaret 
back her toys, and allow me to owe 
him four thousand, even though I 
hadn't the faintest idea when I would 
be able to discount the debt. 

Unquestionably, the responsibility 
was mine. I had been too confident 
and too greedy j had placed too much 
reliance upon Rollins and his friend. 
That they had blundered with me was 
the only bit of satisfaction I had. Be- 
tween them, however, they divided it ; 
that purchase of " fifty thousand at 
two hundred and fifty " meant a loss 
of ten million ! 

I thought I would like to see how 
Rollins took a Smash like that, and 
glancing at my watch, saw that it was 
quarter of one. 

But I was denied the privilege just 
then. A messenger accosted me when 
I arrived at the exchange entrance and 
delivered a note from Rollins saying 
that he " regretted very much that the 
urgent nature of his business, et 
cetera," but he hoped to meet me at 
dinner that evening as arranged. 

The financial district was in the 
hands of the police, who were trying 1 
to regulate a noonday crowd, swelled 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



777 



to most unusual proportions by ru- 
mors of a panic. As a matter of fact, 
Rand Island stock was not important 
enough to effect the general market, 
and only in that wild hour of its rise 
and fall did it excite the exchange to a 
frenzy that had almost died away in 
my short absence from the " Street." 

Growing tired of watching the fu- 
tile mob, and finding no relief in the 
antics of the curb-brokers, I sought a 
restaurant and lunched alone. 

Groups of men, brokers all, seated 
about the round tables, talked in whis- 
pers, as if they were afraid that the 
other groups would hear what they 
said. The atmosphere of the place 
was mysterious and volcanic. It got 
on my nerves, and I couldn't eat. 

I think I forgot to tip the waiter. I 
know I did forget to drop my ticket 
in the chopper of the subway, and the 
colored gentleman on guard called me 
back loudly and insinuatingly. 

A local train carried me to Fifty- 
Ninth Street, and I wandered aimless- 
ly up Central Park West, wondering 
how on earth I could communicate 
with Margaret at once. 

An irresistible desire to see her and 
explain had led me up-town, and I 
thought that if she could send mes- 
sages to me when Rollins was out 
there could be no danger if I were to 
send one to her. 

First, however, I thought I'd try the 
telephone. It would be perfectly 
proper to inquire if Miss Rollins were 
improving. Doubtless I could learn 
from the reply how the land lay. 

Finding a private booth and learn- 
ing Rollins's telephone number from 
the telephone-book, I secured the con- 
nection and was answered by a rather 
pleasant-voiced female, who. the mo- 
ment I said " Hello! " asked hurriedly 
— even roughly : 

"This is Mr. Van Huysen. isn't it? " 

For one second I hesitated — and I 
did not wish to give my own name. 

" Yes." I tried to imitate Ralph's 
somewhat high-pitched tones. " Who 
is speaking, please? " 



A low laugh came along the wire 
quite clearly. 

" Is my voice so very different on 
the telephone? I'd recognize yours 
ten thousand miles away." 

I was glad of that, but I did not say 
so. The voice at the other end of the 
wire was not Margaret's. 

" How is Miss Rollins? Much bet- 
ter. I hope ? " 

" Oh, much ! " came the answer, 
with a hint of ridicule in it. " She's 
convalescing in the park somewhere 
with your sister, so you needn't be 
afraid to talk to me. I am at the 
library phone with the door closed, 
and I've been praying all day that 
you'd call when she was out." 

I almost dropped the receiver. 

"Where's everybody?" I asked 
carefully. 

" The Jap's flirting with Gretchen 
and the cook's gone out for a dill 
pickle or something. There's nobody 
bothering about me or what I'm doing. 
Is it all right for to-morrow night?" 

Without realizing it, I was startled 
out of my " part." 

" Yes, I suppose so." 

"What's the matter?" came the 
query sharply, and the tone became 
harsh. " Ain't you feeling good? " 

" Not very — and the phone, you 
know — rather dangerous — what ? " 

''Say! Who's that talking now? 
You ain't — that ain't Ralph's voice ! 
Who are you? Who — my Gawd! " 

It was only a whisper that trailed 
away into a horrified silence. 

I hung up the receiver and went to 
look for Margaret in the park. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE BENCHES IN THE PARK. 

Had I met Ralph Van Huysen then 
I would possibly have been foolish 
enough to discuss the matter, with him 
in terms more forcible than polite. 

Though it was really no business of 
mine, I was very much annoyed about 
it; in fact, went so far as to vow that, 



778 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



whether I could afford it or not, Ralph 
should not marry his cousin. 

L suppose that was rather puerile ; 
but as I stationed myself at the park 
entrance nearest to the Rollins apart- 
ment, feeling; sure that Alice and Mar- 
garet would come out that way. I did 
not become any the less decided about 
the affair. 

After half an hour or so. watching 
the leaves fall, studying the afternoon 
loiterers and scanning the sparsely 
populated walks, became very monot- 
onous, and in desperation I decided to 
penetrate further. 

Scarcely a hundred yards round a 
curve was enough, and when I caught 
sight of them the cousins were rising 
from a seat to walk off the other way. 

When I came up with them I was a 
little out of breath. 

" Good afternoon." 

They halted abruptly and reviewed 
me in blank amazement. I was glad 
the path was a quiet one. 

The blood raced into Margaret's 
cheeks and forehead and throat, and 
then retreated instantly, leaving her 
deathly pale. For a fleeting second her 
eyes met mine. And my knees shook. 

I stood within the gates once more, 
struggling to be calm, gazing at the 
slim figure of a girl in a little gray hat 
and a gray dress, and trembled because 
she was so near. 

In a moment the heaviness descend- 
ed again. The truth stalked up to me 
and pitched me out; I knew it was go- 
ing to be very hard to speak through 
the bars to her and tell her why. 

Alice, whose clothes harmonized so 
perfectly, in a quiet, unobtrusive way 
that one never noticed particularly 
what she wore, found her tongue first; 
and her control over her emotions has 
many times since then been a source of 
wonder to me. 

" Good afternoon. Mr. Mason," she 
greeted me. with just the faintest hint 
of hostility in her tone. " We were 
just speculating upon whether you 
would come out of Wall Street a lion 
or a lamb." 



" Then — you haven't heard — " 

" Nothing." she interrupted lazily. 

Some of the color had come back 
into Margaret's cheeks, though she 
continued to hud it difficult to take her ! 
attention away from the little gold 
mesh-hag chain which she was wind- 
ing around her fingers. 

" Let's walk." I suggested, and de- 
termined to be as indifferent as possi- 
ble under the keen surveillance of 
Alice's eyes. " Some one in the Rol- 
flins establishment informed me you 
were in the park. \ telephoned." 

A little hand on my right clutched 
my sleeve nervously. 

" You telephoned ! " 

Fear reigned in tone and look, but 
the moment I turned my head and 
glanced downward Margaret became 
busy with the mesh-bag again. In the 
taxicab, without Alice to play censor, 
I suppose it had been different ; but I 
hardly think, in any case, that she was 
as much afraid of me in the park as I 
was of her. 

" I didn't give my name." I assured 
her. " Miss Van Huysen evidently 
knows of our partnership." 

Margaret did not answer. I think 
she tried to, but couldn't find her 
tongue. 

" I think so," Alice replied for her. 
" And, judging by your expression, 
what I predicted has happened." 

" You predicted ? " 

" It hasn't ! " 

The interruption, fdled with defi- 
ance, was Margaret's, and she looked 
suddenly up to me for support. I 
quailed before that appeal, and my 
tongue became very thick and unwield- 
ly, seeming to clog my throat. 

" I'm sorry — but I'm afraid — that 
is — we're — wiped out!" 

" Wiped — out ! " 

I hardly think Alice heard it, but she 
turned her head away. It was just a 
breath, and the bright red of Mar- 
garet's lips faded to an anemic pink as 
slie caught my arm again — not in dis- 
appointment, but in fear. 

For a while no one said anything. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



779 



I fell like a brute — and then I want- 
ed to tell her not to bother about it — 
that it was all right — I'd look after 
her. But I could not fool myself that 
way. 

So I thought of the Harlem Loan 
Company again. 

"You are sure?" Margaret whis- 
pered at last, just as I was going to say 
that I'd get the things back for her. 
" I — thought papa had everything — " 

" Yes — I thought so, too, until some 
one unearthed fifty thousand shares 
from somewhere and sold them to 
your father at two hundred and fifty. 
But I should have sold at two hundred. 
I was greedy and waited, thinking we 
were quite safe — and the bottom 
dropped out of things in five minutes. 
You mustn't worry about it, though. 
I am sure I can get those things you 
sent me — " 

"You won't! It is I who should 
give you — " 

" You mustn't say that. It was my 
fault entirely. I was just aching to 
plunge and — " 

But you wouldn't have plunged if 
I hadn't told you of Rand Island. And 
you've lost everything! " 

" Don't quarrel, children." Alice in- 
terrupted smoothly, in a superior 
motherly tone, and laughed in a man- 
ner I thought rather heartless. " You 
haven't time, and, besides, this is Cen- 
tral Park. 1 thought boys on roller- 
skates were not allowed in here." 

A little chap, seated on his skates, 
whizzed past us down the quiet path. 

" You said that some one sold Uncle 
Theodore fifty thousand at two hun- 
dred and fifty? " Alice queried some- 
what absently. 

" Exactly," I answered, trying to 
understand her attitude. 

" Urn! That's about five times what 
the stock is worth, isn't it? I should 
imagine Uncle Theodore won't feel a 
bit happy about that. When he learns, 
as he is sure to do, that his daughter 
has lost every piece of jewelry she 
owned in a fiasco, he will be positively 
unfit to live with." 



"Alice!" The protest was Mar- 
garet's. 

" Well " — airily — " what's the use 
of smothering the truth? It is mighty 
and will insist upon prevailing, so you 
might as well turn your innocent little 
face toward it and see what it looks 
like." 

I tried to smile and to say some- 
thing, but managed neither. Margaret 
seemed equally at a loss for a moment 
or two. Then she said very quietly : 

" I'm not afraid." 

" That is foolish." I declared. " I'll 
have those things back to you — " 

" Who is going to lend you five to 
six thousand dollars without collat- 
eral, Mr. Mason?" Alice broke in, 
most irritatingly calm. " And even if 
you should find some one, don't you 
think that that's rather a cheap and 
easy way out ? " 

No mercy in that girl whatsoever. 

"But — great Hea — guns! Miss Van 
Huysen, we can't — " 

"Can't you? Then it is just as 
well you did not win. If you had you 
would both have made the mistake of 
your lives and been wretched forever 
and ever. So let's sav ' Amen ' to 
that." 

"We won't!" Margaret objected 
strenuously, and I felt as if I would 
like to applaud. " 1 wouldn't take the 
old things back if he brought them to 
me. I'll draw every penny I've got, 
and — and — " 

" How much is that? " Alice asked. 

" Almost nine hundred dollars. 
Papa; doesn't let me have more than a 
thousand at a time." 

" Nine hundred," Alice repeated. 
" Would I be very rude if I inquired 
whether Mr. Mason could made it — a 
thousand ? " 

" I think I could do that." 

Alice smiled. 

" Well, you can't do anything to- 
day since the banks are closed. But 
lots of people have run away on much 
less than a thousand dollars. 

" I read of the case of a man who 
tried it with seventy-five cents. To- 



780 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



day, I believe, he is a prosperous cigar 
manufacturer, with a son at Yale, and 
the rest of the family preparing lor 
Bryn Mawr. I don't suppose you 
could make cigars, Mr. Mason?" 

" I never tried to. Let — let's find a 
seat and talk this over." 

Alice glanced quickly up at me and 
away again. Margaret's fingers 
gripped my arm tighter and tighter. 

Perhaps it was Alice's taunts, or 
Margaret's courage in her helpless- 
ness, or the vow I had vowed, or a 
combination of all three that made me 
feel so very determined and serious; 
much more serious than I allowed 
them to believe 1 was. In any case. 
When we found a vacant seat I was in 
no mood for quibbling. 

" Now, let's see." I began the mo- 
ment we were seated : " us and com- 
pany have just lost ten thousand dol- 
lars. Since it's no use crying over 
spilled milk we might as well face the 
music and decide here and now 
whether us and company shall be dis- 
solved or not. 

" I have saved about five hundred 
from the wreck, and my partner is 
rich to the tune of nine hundred. To- 
tal assets in hard cash, about fourteen 
hundred. Now, I think I 'can drive 
and take care of a car well enough to 
earn — What do they pay chauffeurs 
over here? " 

Margaret's fingers slipped down to 
my hand and held on like grim death. 
They trusted me. I could feel that. 

Alice laughed softly and looked 
away for a moment. 

" Twenty-five dollars, I think, is a 
fair average," she said at last in a low 
tone, and her clear gray eyes came 
round again quite steadily. " But, of 
course, you're joking?" 

I accepted the information and ig- 
nored the question. 

" Do you mean twenty-five per 
week or month ? " 

'* Week, of course." 

"Not so bad, is it?" I looked to 
Margaret for a comment of some sort, 
and found her regarding me in mute 



astonishment. " Could we live on 
twenty-five per week ? " 

" Oh, please — please don't make 
fun ! " 

" Fun ! I never was more serious. 
You are my responsibility now, and 
I'm not a bit afraid to undertake it. 
Do yon think you could marry me — 
to-morrow ? " 

"Good Heavens!" Alice whispered 
involuntarily, and . Margaret's eyes 
widened and widened till I thought 
they would never stop. 

" Of course I know this isn't a bit 
orthodox. You're not getting half 
the fun out of it you ought to get. But 
it's original. Probably we'll make as 
good a shape at matrimony as lots of 
people I 1-yiow who tackled it with all 
the usual frills. 

" In the presence of a witness I 
haven't the least hesitancy in saying 
that I like you very much, and that 
though a week ago I hadn't any in- 
tention of marrying any one, you have 
removed my prejudices entirely. And 
you know you said a few minutes ago 
that vou were not afraid." 

" I'm not ! "• 

" Then perhaps Miss Van Huysen 
will inform me where we could secure 
a license and that sort of thing." 

Alice drew a sharp breath and 
blinked as I turned my head. All the 
starch seemed to have been taken out 
of her; but in a minute she was smiling 
and looking almost happy. 

" Hoboken seems to be the logical 
aid to madness of this sort," she said 
calmly. " The city hall isn't more than 
a few steps from the ferry, and I be- 
lieve the way is lined with justices of 
the peace." 

"A sort of Gretna Green? That 
should do very well. Would you care 
to come along and witness the execu- 
tion? " 

" No, thanks." Very firmly. 
Margaret moved uneasily, but said 
nothing. 

"Really? You won't come?" I 
asked again. 

" No. But, if you are really in 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



781 



earnest about this I'll accompany 
Margaret to the ferry — the New York 
side — and meet you there. After that 
I refuse to be responsible for any- 
thing." 

"Thank you. That will do very 
nicely, provided, of course, that my 
partner is agreeable." 

Blushing furiously, Margaret looked 
up for a second, and a wan little smile 
of acquiescence parted her lips. The 
fear had gone out of her eyes. 

Yet Alice seemed to envy her. In 
the succeeding few minutes, while 
Margaret looked as if she would like 
to run off somewhere and cry or dance 
— I was not sure which — Alice be- 
came quieter and quieter, trifling ab- 
sently with a locket, and once or twice 
I thought her lip quivered. 

When I left them, telling Alice that 
I should expect her to recommend me 
to any one who needed a chauffeur, 
she smiled and said : 

''What's the use? You wouldn't 
stay a week." 



CHAPTER XXI. 

THE START. 

The evening papers, telling me 
again of our losses, failed to hurt as 
they might have done had that meet- 
ing in the park not taken place. 

Apparently the fifty thousand shares 
sold at two hundred and fifty were by 
no means mythical. They had ar- 
rived in New York about midnight on 
Tuesday by special train from San 
Francisco. 

Of the twenty-five thousand that 
had smashed the price to smithereens, 
fifteen thousand had been acquired in 
Cleveland alone, while the balance had 
been collected from other Western 
points. 

So far did the brokers who handled 
the stock go with their stories and no 
farther ; hut it was enough, to let me 
guess that the large stockholder in San 
Francisco had learned of the proposed 
elevation of Rand Island and had de- 



liberately set about to checkmate Rol- 
lins and his friend. 

Rollins's name was not mentioned 
in any of the reports. Bailey, the big 
man with the staccato voice, and with, 
apparently, little or no reputation to 
lose, got all the publicity and all the 
blame, so I imagined that Rollins was 
bearing the brunt of the cash losses of 
the combination. 

He certainly looked as if he were 
at dinner that evening. His cheeks 
were the color of parchment; his 
smile like that of a death's head, and 
his hand so shaky that he could 
scarcely carry the soup-spoon to his 
mouth without spilling some of the 
contents. 

Occasionally I saw in his eyes the 
black shadow of his heart ; and then 
he was grinning horribly and chatter- 
ing on about something far removed 
from Wall Street. 

He almost blubbered when he spoke, 
and most of what he said was an in- 
coherent jumble that began in Eng- 
land and ended in Hell's Kitchen. 

Of course I was blind to everything, 
and with the sweets I inquired duti- 
fully about his daughter's health. 

A spoonful of meringue, halted in 
mid air. He looked over it at me as if 
he were questioning whether he had 
heard aright. 

" She is much better. Much better. 
She was out to-day in the park. Beau- 
tiful in the park now, you know." , 

There was a light in his eyes I did 
not understand ; something akin to tri- 
umphant cruelty. 

We took a taxi to Ninth Avenue 
and Fifty-Ninth Street. Rollins in- 
forming me that it would be so much 
more interesting if we walked the re- 
mainder of the way. 

In spite of our having dined at Rol- 
lins's club, we were not in evening 
clothes. Lounge suits, autumn over- 
coats, and soft hats did not make us 
in the least conspicuous, and we came 
to the car-barns at the corner of Fifty- 
Fourth Street and Tenth Avenue 
without incident. 



782 THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Rollins tried to give me the impres- 
sion that he was familiar with the 
place, and failed. He played his part 
wretchedly. 

First, he hoped we were not too 
early; then he was afraid that perhaps 
Crabbe might be late; further, it was 
so long since he had been in that re- 
gion he did not suppose any one would 
remember him. 

Looking clown Fifty-Fourth Street 
toward the river, he muttered nerv- 
ously : 

"Horribly dark, isn't it?"' 

" Rather forbidding. But if we 
stand here much longer, those loungers 
at the corner will begin to pitch things 
at us. Where is the saloon in which 
you used to study types ? " 

" One block farther west. That's it* 
I think — the light at the other end of 
the street." 

" I see the light, but are you sure 
it's the one you are looking for? " 

" Oh, yes — epiite sure. I remember 
it quite well." 

He was not looking toward the 
Clachan's lights, which I thought were 
unusually bright, but furtively about 
him; and as a tram-niotonnan crossed 
from out of the shadow of the car-barn 
wall and walked heavily past us down 
Fifty-Fourth Street. Rollins seemed to 
pluck up courage all at once and fol- 
lowed him. 

The street was very quiet, but the 
motorman trudging on ahead gave mc 
a feeling of security. Rollins became 
quieter and quieter every yard. He 
appeared to have forgotten me. 

Some one clinging close to the fac- 
tory wall skulked past us and a stout 
woman came after him. Then I heard 
the tinkle of a piano, and all at once 
many voices joined in the slaughter 
of a popular piece of rag-time. 

At first I was doubtful about the 
source of the sound, and then I real- 
ized that it came from the Clachan ! 

And as we drew near enough I saw 
that it was gaily decorated with flags 
and bunting, though there wasn't a 
soul to be seen outside its doors. 



« 

The motorman led the way to the 
place, but did not go inside. He 
plodded on round the corner. Rollins 
gripped my arm as the swing doors 
closed behind us. 

" We'll go into the back room," he 
whispered. " It's more interesting 
there." 

There were only three customers at 
the bar — an Italian and two large, fair- 
haired men who looked like Swedes. 
They took no notice of us, and one 
would never have believed that Andy, 
the bartender, had tried to save me 
from Batch's razor. 

But the back room was quite another 
matter. 

The tables were arranged so as to 
leave a large space in the center of the 
floor. Every light in the place was lit 
and almost every table occupied. At 
each there were at least one or two 
young women ! 

My first impression was that a local 
»lee eltlb, or something of the sort, had 
hired Campbell's back room to cele- 
brate an " occasion " of their own. 

Every one was in gala attire. There 
was no sign of the element I had en- 
countered upon my first visit. The 
men were clean-shaven and neatly 
dressed; the women were dressed in 
the latest imitation of Fifth Avenue. 

In the top corner, quite near my exit, 
stood the piano, at which a girl was 
seated with her back to me. A young 
man was gallantly turning the music. 

I had heard a Harlem policeman call 
him " Jimmy." 

And the pianist was Delia! 



CHATTER XXII. 

WALTZING AROUND WITH ROSIK. 

SiiR did not turn her head, not even 
when, as we gingerly made our way 
through the tobacco-smoke to a vacant 
table not far from the piano, a woman's 
voice called shrilly above the ragtime 
chorus : 

" Oh. you blondy ! " 

The chorus wavered and several 



■ 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



783 



laughed. I admit that I am rather fair. 
Delia glanced up at Jimmy, but played 
right on. 

" A seltzer an' milk for theirs, gar- 
song!" some one called to a waiter. 
"Lump o' sugar in it." 

" Say, sweetie! Howza mama? " 

" Lamp the little guy, will ye? 
Don't he hate hisself ? " 

" Aw — can the chatter ! " 

" G'wan ! I jus' love a man what can 
raise a ;/n/.s--tache like Blondy. Room 
at your table, honeybug? " 

" Ain't he the baby-doll ? " 

Evidently in a laudable attempt to 
drown the hail of comment, for which, 
I regret to say, the ladies were almost 
entirely responsible, Delia repeated the 
chorus of the thing she was playing, 
fortissimo, and the singing began 
again loosely. 

Leaning idly against the piano, Jim- 
my smiled upon the scene, and, though 
our eyes met, he gave no sign of recog- 
nition. 

Rollins, palpably nervous, sat with 
his back to the door, principally be- 
cause I forced him to by getting to the 
other side of the table first. Sitting 
side-on, I could watch both the signal- 
lights -Campbell had designated and the 
piano. 

One would have thought there were 
pins in Rollins's chair. It was quite 
plain that he had never been in a place 
like that before. He even seemed 
afraid of the waiter when that individ- 
ual approached and barked : 

" YYhat'Il ye have? " 

Rollins ordered brandy, and looked 
as if he needed it. I trusted to Camp- 
bell's proprietorship and took my 
" usual." 

A generously built, straw-haired girl 
and a lithe young man swung out into 
the center of the floor as Delia plunged 
the piano keys into the throes of the 
turkey trot. "Whether she intended it 
or not, the dance took a great deal of 
attention from us, and the first couple 
to answer the call was joined quickly 
by as many more as the floor space 
could uncomfortably accommodate. 



The straw - haired girl sneaked my 
hat as she pirouetted past our table and 
clumped it back on my head the next 
time she visited us, blowing a kiss to 
me as she slid away. Her partner did 
not mind. 

" Ain't she fresh? " a dark little girl 
at the next table queried of her escort, 
a heavily built, beetle-browed individ- 
ual who was laboriously consuming a 
large cigar to the detriment of the al- 
ready Stirling atmosphere. " She ain't 
got no call to hand out that rough stuff 
to strangers." 

The man awoke from the state of in- 
difference with which he had regarded 
his surroundings and growled : 

" Aw — that's nothin' ; an' I don' no- 
tice the stranger gettin' on his ear about 
it. What's eatin' you, anyway?" 

" No lady would of done what she 
done — an' you know it, Bill Gregg! " 

Gregg laughed in the depths of his 
great chest, demolished his beer at a 
gulp, and. wiping his mouth with the 
back of his hand, grinned across the 
table at his partner. 

" Can the hot air. Tillie, an' come 
down to oith. You been grousin' about 
my frien's since I brung you in. Rosie 
Paler's one swell skoit. If there 
wussent so much o' her I'd hang up my 
cady— '' 

He didn't finish. 

With surprising suddenness the dark 
little girl rose, gripped the glass of beer 
at her hand, and flung the contents, 
with all the force her fury gave, into 
Gregg's face. 

" You would ! " she screamed pas- 
sionately, as if the flood-gates of her 
wrath had been opened as a result of 
considerable pressure. " You'd make 
a monkey outa me — you big stiff! " 

Gregg spluttered and almost swal- 
lowed his cigar, which sizzled and went 
out. 

The music and the dancing stopped. 
Tillie glared about her like a hunted 
thing as the dancers closed round 
her. and Gregg, blinded and infuriated 
by the beer that stung in his eyes, swore 
and lunged wildly across the table. 



784 



TTTE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Some one screamed ; a glass crashed 
to the floor, and Rollins, white with 
fear, sprang; up, as Tillie, with a little, 
choked-off cry, lurched away from 
Gregg's blow, slipped and toppled back- 
ward — into my lap! 

A burst of raucous laughter greeted 
the denouement, and the matter ended 
there. 

Ere Gregg could recover his balance, 
several men crowded about him and 
forced him back into his chair, while 
Tillie and I, contrary to the facetious 
advice of several kindly disposed per- 
sons, disentangled ourselves. 

The girl, casting but a single look 
behind, burst through the circle that 
barred her way and fled. 

Rollins sat down again very slowly, 
visibly shaking, and looking as if he 
feared another rumpus/that would not 
terminate so swiftly. 

I observed Delia staring straight at 
me without a particle of life in her ex- 
pression. Her Cathedral Parkway 
clothes had given way to a waist and 
skirt ; but it was easy to see that that 
made no difference to Jimmy, though 
it was difficult to understand whether 
he was attentive to her because of her 
standing with the " chief " — a>r simply 
because he wanted to be on his own 
account. 

Suddenly, in the midst of the general 
chatter and the work of pacifying the 
ponderous Gregg — who. you may re- 
member, was put upon the trail of the 
negro. Batch — some one shouted : 

" Shake her up, Delia ! Here's 
Crabbe and Paler ! * 

Delia swung lazily toward the piano, 
as I turned my head toward the door. 
Rollins glanced swiftly at me; we both 
watched the advance of " sub-lieuten- 
ants " Crabbe and Paler, who came 
down the center of the Moor in a direct 
line, swerving not an inch to avoid col- 
lision with any one. but making the 
others give them the right of way. 

They were of ecpial height, walked 
arm-in-arm, and physically were per- 
fect specimens — until they came a little 
nearer.. Then I wanted to laugh. 



Each had one eye ! 

And each had the one the other 
hadn't !- 

I could not, even now, tell you which 
had which. 

Rollins was plainly in distress; sug- 
gesting that he had met Crabbe possi- 
bly but once, and, as any one would 
have been likely to do, trusted to 
recognizing him again, through the 
medium of the hollow eye-socket. 

They marched up to Gregg's table, 
to the accompaniment of ragtime, and 
the little crowd that hung round Til- 
lie's aggrieved victim faded away, 
iled by the straw-haired girl, to resume 
dancing. 

Gregg looked up at the odd pair sul- 
lenly. 

" Aw — she was grousin' all the 
lime." he whined, before the others 
had given any indication that, they 
knew anything about it, and as if he 
expected some punishment or other. 
" What ye want to come layin' it on 
to me for? " 

" Who's goin' to, you big rummy?'' 
the fellow nearest me asked and 
grinned the width of his face. 
" Trouble with you, Gregg, you got 
a hunch that the whole woild" emits 
woik jus' to give you hell. Tillie ain't 
said a woid for or again' you, so don' 
go pannin' her. W hy don' you git up 
an' rag? You ain't worry in' 'bout the 
coon's healt', are you ? " 

" Quit your kiddin", Paler." the big 
man advised and almost smiled. " If 
that nigger shakes the hosp'tal inside 
o' a mont' — I'll put him back to woik 
out his time." The smile became a 
laugh, callous and cruel, and Gregg 
raised his large bulk out of the chair 
slowly. 

" Think Rosie'd slam me if I ast 
her to do a turn wit' me ? " 

" I ain't got Rosie's taste," Paler 
returned. " Mebbe she wouldn't. You 
got a tongue, ain't you? " 

Gregg lumbered across the floor, 
dodging the dancers with surprising 
agility, and found a table, temporarily 
vacant, upon the other side of the 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



785 



room. Paler took the seat he had 
vacated. Crabhe, who had not spoken 
so far, but whose one eye held enough 
shrewdness and evil to fill a dozen o.i 
the ordinary kind, seemed to notice 
Rollins all at once, and, on the point 
of sitting down, waved his hand to 
him. 

" 'Lo, old sport ! How goes it? Have 
another on me." 

Rollins's face twitched peculiarly and 
his lips appeared to get in the way of 
the things he wanted to say. 

" I will — but later. I'd like to speak- 
to you iater — er — outside. I have 
something — " 

" Aw — gwan, Bill Gregg ! What ya 
take me for? A truck-horse? I got 
'nougb tub do haulin' myself roun', let 
alone you. Me for Blondy! " 

Miss Paler's strident voice drowned 
everything else, and ere I quite knew 
what had bappencd, she was standing 
over me asking me if I could turkey- 
trot. 

She was very large ancl rough — but 
there wasn't an ounce of evil in her 

eyes. 

" I'm afraid not. Hadn't you better 
choose some one more accomplished 
than I ? " 

" Nothin' doin'," Miss Paler de- 
clared, and froze Rollins with a glance, 
because he dared to move his band 
nervously toward his glass. " You 
gotta trot wit' me afore you leave the 
room. 

" The minute I seen you I says : ' It's 
no use, Rosie, you can't play no games 
wit' the cards stacked again' you, This 
new guy is your finish! ' See? So if 
you ain't goin' to bop, we'll sen' j'our 
frien' over to keep Bill Gregg comp'ny 
an'—" 

" Cut that out, Rosie," her brother 
broke in quietly. 

" Aw — leave her be," Crabbe con- 
tended, and swung round upon some of 
the others who were threatening to be- 
come inquisitive. " What ye rubberin' 
at? Ain't the pianner still goin',.? You 
wanted to speak to me, sir? " 

The final question was directed at 

5 S 



Rollins, who, though he rose shakily, 
seemed glad to do it. 

" Er — eh — yes. Pardon me just a 
moment, will you? " 

" Certainly," I agreed. " I am sure 
the lady will entertain me while you 
are gone." 

Rollins's lips were blue and his smile 
was ghastly. Appearing not to notice, 
I glanced up at Miss Paler. 

" Won't you sit down? " 

Rollins and Crabbe moved away. 
Probably the only eyes that did not fol- 
low them were Rosie's. 

A low laugh, coming from behind 
me, made her raise her head sharply, 
and her glance went over my shoulder. 

"I'll bust you, Ted Paler!" she 
threatened vehemently, and her cheeks 
became beet red. 

But her brother only grinned and 
called the waiter, which reminded me 
of my duty. 

" Can I offer you anything? " 

Rosie glanced quickly about her, as 
if she were afraid that some one might 
be watching us; and a few were sur- 
reptitiously. 

" You think I'm fresh, don't you ? " 
she asked, just as Rollins and Crabbe 
disappeared. 

" Not at all," I assured her, with one 
eye upon the signal-light at the door. 
" Do you indulge at all ? " 

She looked steadily at me for fully 
a minute before she answered, and I 
imagined she had got my pedigree by 
that time. 

You don't belong here, mister," 
she told me in a much quieter tone. 
" An' 1 guess you think we're a bunch 
o' roughnecks. Well, we are. If you 
was born the son o' a man what had — 
what had done time, where the hotel 
bill d'ye think you'd be to-day? " 

I hated to think about it. Rosie's 
wisdom was not to be trifled with, and 
one found, after a few minutes, that 
her face had more kindness than rough- 
ness in it. 

" I don't know," I replied. " I sup- 
pose the great majority do go down,' 
don't they? " 



786 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



You betcha, an' the only difference 
'tween your sort an' my sort is that 
we ain't got so far to drop. Xaw " — 
referring to the waiter's appearance — 
" I ain't drinking nothin'. I been on 
the wagon since I quit the milk. 

" Can't you trot none? I'm a regu- 
lar feather-weight when I'm dancing, 
an' I won't put your shine on the blink. 
Say, Delia, strike up — give us the 
' Robert E. Lee,' will you ? " 

The music ceased instantly, amid a 
chorus of divided opinion. I did not 
turn my head, and kept my eyes fixed 
upon the door. 

There was a great deal of chatter 
and chaff, of which Rosie bore the 
brunt, using her powers of repartee as 
an expert fencer wields his foil. Then 
a new ragtime piece set the " floor " 
in motion again. 

Miss Paler looked toward me. 

With a glance at the door and an- 
other at the already crowded floor 
space. I protested feebly. 

" There isn't any room for us." 

" There ain't— eh ? " 

Rosie rose, and her voice rose higher 
still: 

" Beat it, the bunch of you. Me an' 
Blondy's goin' to show you how they 
trot in high societee." 

It cleared the floor like magic. I 
looked about me in search of relief, 
but there was none. A storm of ap- 
proval burst upon me from all sides. 
Delia turned her head, stared blankly 
at me for a moment or two — and 
nodded. 

No one else would have thought it 
was intended for me. Jimmy also 
smiled encouragement, and Paler, fix- 
ing his single eye upon me, said, with a 
grin: 

" Be a sport. She don't weigh more'n 
a ton." 

"I'll paste you!" Rosie declared 
wrathfully amid a roar of laughter. 

" Never mind him," I said, and. 
rising, offered my arm. " May I have 
the pleasure of dancing this number 
with you ? " 

" You sure may." 



She grabbed my arm as if she were 
afraid I might retract, and, to an ac- 
companiment of cheers, catcalls, much 
stamping of feet, and the piano, I was 
dragged into the intricacies of the 
turkey-trot. 

The floor was bad, but Miss Paler 
had not lied about her weight when 
dancing, and Delia's time, when we 
caught it above the tumult, was perfect. 
We paid no attention to the remarks 
of the bystanders, witty and coarse, 
that came from all sides, Rosie's 
tongue seeming to have lost all desire 
for revenge, while her eyes became ac- 
tually dreamy. 

Mine sped to the door every time I 
faced it. 

No one else looked that way. The 
attention of the entire company was 
fixed upon us. . 

"Gee! You're a swell dancer! " my 
partner murmured ecstatically after a 
while, and her fingers gripped my 
shoulder like a vise. " I ain't such a 
elephant, am I? " 

" Of course not. You dance beau- 
tifully." 

She smiled, and her eyes softened; 
but two red eyes, blinking in a little 
black box near the door, took my atten- 
tion away from her and told me that 
my time had come. 

We waltzed nearer and nearer to the 
piano and my exit, till we were within 
a few feet of it. 

The signal-light winked again twice. 

Jimmy's forefingers went into his 
mouth, and a shrill whistle was the 
result. 

The lights went out. 

Even the bar shared the eclipse. 

Women screamed, glasses went 
crashing to the floor, and something 
like a stampede ensued. Rosie flung 
her arms about me. 

But that was not an embrace of fear. 

Just as a small hand came out of the 
murk, gripped my sleeve and tugged, 
Rosie, to my complete surprise, whis- 
pered softly: 

" You're all right, Blondy. Beat 
it!" 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



787 



And in the winking of an eye she 
had kissed me ! 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

THIC MOTOR MAN. 

The small hand tugged again, and 
I did not have to be told that it was 
Delia's, as I swung round in the direc- 
tion in which I thought the door ought 
to be. 

But I did not have to search for it 
or open it. A large hand gripped my 
arm, thrust me forward into a greater 
darkness, and in a second I heard the 
click of a key turning in a lock. 

Then I knew that I was in the kitchen 
and alone. 

I did not hesitate or halt to think 
of anything save that the door to the 
yard was " straight ahead," and in a 
few moments I had found it, pulled the 
knob to the right, and was out in the 
open air. 

Whew ! But that was good after the 
reeking weight of the atmosphere in 
the back room ; and I stood for a few 
seconds breathing it deep down into my 
lungs. 

Then I turned to my right. 

" Two wire fences and a wooden 
one," I repeated to myself. " And 
Brannigan's back door." 

How ridiculously simple it had been! 
And how perfectly Rollins had been 
fooled! I had been at sea most of the 
time myself. Everything had been so 
utterly unlike what I had anticipated. 

As I crept under the first fence the 
commotion in the " Clachan " died 
away, so I presumed the lights had 
been turned on again, and peace re- 
stored. 

I speculated upon what Rollins 
thought of it — if anything had hap- 
pened to him in the dark; not that I 
cared particularly whether anything 
had or not, so long as the little beast 
wasn"t killed. I hoped CampbeH"s ar- 
rangements had been content to stop at 
the fifty thousand dollars he had paid 
for the evening's amusement. 



Crawling under the second fence, 
confident that no danger could lurk in 
the back yards of unoccupied shops, I 
straightened up and tiptoed toward the 
last hurdle that separated me from 
Brannigan's. 

The fence was of boards, rickety in 
every sense of the word. I was half 
way over when I felt the tug of a nail 
that threatened to rip the pocket of 
my coat, and as I tried to free myself 
without damage, a hand came out of 
the darkness behind me and hauled "me 
back to earth ! 

For a second or two I did not know 
what to think. I could only feel the 
pressure of very powerful fingers about 
my arm, and was conscious of a dark 
shadow that looked down at me and 
inquired very quietly: 

" Where do you think you're 
going? " 

I blinked up at the fellow, with my 
tongue glued to the roof of my mouth, 
and saw, after my eyes became clearer, 
that he was a tram-car motorman — the 
one who had preceded Rollins and my- 
self down Fifty-Fourth Street. 

" W — what are you doing here? " I 
managed to articulate. " What right 
have you to — " 

" Now, sonny, I'll make it easy for 
you," he interrupted quietly. " Don't 
ask no questions. .Any man hereabouts 
that takes to climbing back-yard fences 
this hour o' the night can't afford to be 
inquisitive about another fellow's game. 
You an' me are goin' to a nice quiet 
place to have a little talk." 

" But, great guns, man, I — " 

" That'll be about all. Keep it till 
it's needed." 

I did not understand, and all the 
while he spoke he kept a firm grip upon 
my arm, but when he tried to pull me 
with him down "the yard 1 objected 
forcibly and succeeded in wrenching 
myself free. 

But it was only for a minute. 

With an oath, which I flattened with 
my left against his teeth, he rushed 
upon me, and in trying to avoid him 
I tripped and fell backward. 



788 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Two seconds later there was a 
" bracelet " upon my right wrist, and 
my motorman, holding the other, or- 
dered me to get up. 

" You'll sweat for that one,*" he in- 
formed me viciously, feeling his mouth. 

" And you will suffer for this out- 
rage ! " I returned, my temper rising. 

" All right. Let it go at that. Come 
on." 

There was nothing else for me to 
do. Dragging me after him through 
the murk to the rear door of the shop, 
we had passed inside, while I gaped and 
wondered where he had got the keys, 
since Campbell had told me that he 
paid " rent to himself " for both shops. 

The place was quite empty, and my 
motorman seemed to know his way 
about, leading me to the front door 
without any hesitation whatever. It 
was closed, but unlocked. 

He stood for a while before opening 
it. as if he were listening for some 
sound or other he expected to hear; 
then, very cautiously, his hand went 
out to the knob, as the rattle of an ap- 
proaching wagon came to our ears. 

In a moment we were outside, and 
the d'->or, which was not flush with the 
front of the building, was locked. 

A policeman in uniform, idly swing- 
ing his night-club, stood upon the side- 
walk probably a foot from the door- 
way ! He was a big policeman and his 
back was toward us. 

" Anythin' doin'. Rafferty? " the 
motorman asked, keeping in the shad- 
ows of the doorway and holding me 
there, too. 

Rafferty did not turn his head. 

" Loights wint out tin minits since, 
sorr. Didn' ye hear the wimin 
screamin' ? " 

The motorman coughed. 

" Anybody leave ? " 
Three men, sorr. Wan ay thim 
was drunk.'" 

" Carey go in to see what the hol- 
lerin' was about? " 

" Yes, sorr. Barkeep said as there 
was somethin' the matter wid the 
switch." 



" Huh ! " 

A pause. Rafferty continued to 
swing his night-stick and to face front. 
A passer-by glanced quickly up at him 
and passed on. 

The motorman hesitated a moment 
or two, then removed the handcuff 
from my wrist. 

" I'm bein' decent to you because I 
think you're only a boob that's got in 
wrong,"' he told me quietly. " Go 
round to the station-house with Raf- 
ferty there — an' don't try for to beat 
him up or he'll knock your block off. 
Rafferty ! " 

" Yes, sorr." 

" Take this gentleman round to your 
station-house and let the reserve squad 
keep him company till I get there." 

Rafferty turned his head, and. 
whether he had known of my existence 
before or not, he showed no surprise. 
I knew it was perfectly useless to ob- 
ject, and caution bade me hold my 
peace until such time as I could talk 
to advantage. 

I fell in by Rafferty's side and 
walked with him quite respectably, 
leaving the motorman standing in the 
shop doorway. 

The policeman did not speak, nor 
did I, all the way to the station. Peo- 
ple looked at us. of course, and I felt, 
uncommonly guilty of something or 
other, but I wasn't a bit afraid of the 
outcome — after I had thought a little. 

The lieutenant on desk-duty at the 
station-house glanced up from an eve- 
ning newspaper, and looked at me over 
his glasses as Rafferty piloted me in. 

"'Well?" 

" Detective Parks said I wuz to 
hould him in the mill's room, sorr." 

*' What for? Parks make any 
charge? " 

" No. sorr." 

"Oh, is that so? What does 
Parks think this station-house is? 
Ain't he got men enough of his own 
without yanking mine off their beats 
to, pull his easy marks? Had Carey 
wastin' his time around that dump, too, 
I suppose? " 



A THIEVES 

" Yes, sorr." 
" And Malone ? '" 
" No, sorr." 
" Huh ! " 

Frowning, the lieutenant went back 
to his paper. Evidently he and Parks 
were not of the same mind regarding 
" that dump,'' and I remembered that 
Parks was the central office man who 
had tipped his hat so respectfully to 
Campbell in the City Hall. 

" Leave him here and get back on 
your beat ! " 

" Yes, sorr." 

Raffcrty saluted and trudged out, 
leaving me suspended in mid air, as it 
were, before the desk. 

The lieutenant's attention was di- 
vorced from his paper to me again by a 
slow uplifting of his head, and he had 
eyes that went through one like gimlets. 

" Come over here ! " 

1 went to the rail that surrounded 
him as with majesty, leaning upon it. 

" What do you do for a living? " 

" Nothing at present. If you know 
any one who needs a chauffeur, though, 
I'd be glad to — " 

The clerk put his hand over his 
mouth and the lieutenant's paper went 
down upon his desk with a crackling 
bang. 

" Are you trying to kid me? " 
" Not at all. I am perfectly 
serious." 

For almost a minute he simply sat 
looking at me, and out of the corner 
of my eye I saw, through the open door 
of an adjoining room, several of what 
I presumed was the " reserve squad " 
craning their necks to hear and see. 

" What did Parks pull you for? " 

"You mean the motorman?" I 
queried innocently. 

" Huh ! Motorman ! That's 'nough ! 
Anybody that Parks can fool with a 
get-up like that is a rube. But what 
did he pull you for? " 

" Climbing fences. A friend of 
mine and I went down to a beastly 
place on the corner of some avenue 
or other — I'm an Englishman, you 
know — " 



' COMEDY. 789 
" Sure, I know." 

" There was dancing and all that sort 
of thing. Then the lights went out. 
I didn't know what the dickens was up, 
but I was very near a door and I 
skipped through it, and found myself 
in a yard. I started to climb fences 
looking for a way out, and had got 
over two when that idiot — " 

" Idiot ! " 

The lieutenant repeated the word 
with relish and grinned his approval. 

" — collared me and had me carted 
up here." 

The lieutenant looked at me quiz- 
zically. 

" 1 bet Parks thought he'd grabbed 
a hot one!" he exclaimed, and filled 
the office with his laughter. 

But a commotion behind me ended it 
very abruptly. 

Swinging about, I saw a few in- 
quisitive people upon the sidewalk just 
below the green lights of the station- 
house, and in another half-minute a 
policeman appeared handcuffed to a 
little woman, who stared stolidly at 
the ground. 

I had seen the policeman a week be- 
fore at the corner of Tenth Avenue 
and Fifty-Fourth Street. His pris- 
oner had been walking with me at the 
time. 

She was Beans Borrowman's friend' 
—Mrs. Yarelli ! 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE FINISH. 

Her hair hung about her face in 
straggling disorder, reminding one of 
a Skye terrier. There was a spot of 
blood upon her cheek and red streaks 
on her hands; her torn clothing gave 
every indication of a struggle. 

It did not take me more than a sec- 
ond to realize that it would never do 
for either she or the. policeman to 
recognize me. The story I had told 
the lieutenant and the fact that I had 
walked abroad with the owner of the 
" Clachan " would not agree. 



790 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



I tried to get out of their way by 
turning my back upon them, and edging 
slowly toward the reserves' room. 

Where are you going? " the lieu- 
tenant asked sharply, and 1 stopped at 
once, feeling sure that I had made my- 
self still more conspicuous. " Stay 
right there till you're told to move. 
What you got, Malone? " 

" A dago woman, sorr. She was 
thryin' for to make a corpse of that bad 
divil, Tony Varelli. whin I butted in. 
She's his woife, sorr." 

" Huh ! Do much damage to him ? " 

" Knoifed him twicet, sorr, in Gor- 
gan's saloon. The ambilance tuk him 
away. I got the names av witnesses, 
sorr." 

" All right. Let's get it entered 
and — What are ye starin' at, both 
of ye?" 

I had impetuously turned my head 
upon hearing Malone's charge against 
the little Italian girl, and both were 
regarding me questioningly. Recog- 
nition came into the prisoner's wild eyes 
first, but it followed in the twinkling 
blue of the Irishman's very quickly 
after, though he seemed a bit undecided 
about his guess. 

" Nothin', sorr," he answered hur- 
riedly. " But I seen the gintleman 
thare somewheres afore, an' I was 
thryin' for to plaice him." 

I hoped fervently that he never 
would. Mrs. Varelli was studying the 
floor again. 

" Here you, Krause ! " the lieutenant 
roared suddenly toward the reserves' 
room. " Clear that bunch of rubber- 
necks away from the door. You have 
seen this gentleman before. Malone?" 

" Yes, sorr, somewheres." 

" Huh! That's vague enough.'' 

Malone reddened a trifle, and went 
with his prisoner before the blotter in 
which the charge against her. with all 
the necessary frills, was entered, while 
I stood waiting for orders. 

A reporter came in, nodded to the 
" czar of the precinct," and hung about 
until the latest entry in the blotter was 
completed. 



As Mrs. Varelli, a broken, half- 
savage atom of humanity, was being 
led away to temporary quarters, she 
looked quickly up at me, plainly won- 
dering why I was there. 

" Know the lady? " 

The lieutenant's voice was so very 
quiet it startled me, and the reporter's 
attention came away from the blotter 
instantly. 

" No." 

" Seemed to know you." 
"Really!" 

I saw the reporter grin. The lieu- 
tenant's glance went over my shoul- 
der. 

" Here's Parks," he announced, as 
if it did not matter. " I guess he's 
stabbed blind, found something an' 
didn't know it. We'll go inside, if you 
don't mind. Frank ! " 

" Yessir," his assistant answered in- 
stantly. 

" Tell Malone I want him to remem- 
ber where he saw this gentleman, and 
to do it before he leaves the station- 
house." 

" Yessir." 

The reporter was all eyes. Parks 
came in quietly, without any fuss, and 
I was marched into a room, which I 
presumed was intended for such con- 
ferences as that which followed. 

When the door was carefully closed 
and I had accepted the offer of a chair 
by a flat-top desk. Parks, with a glance 
at the lieutenant, who remained stand- 
ing, began with : 

" Let me tell you something. The 
truth won't do you an)' harm, but the 
other thing will only get you in bad. 
What were you doin' climbin' them 
fences ? " 

I told him my story. 

" Sounds all right. Where'd your 
friend go ? " 

" He went into the bar a few minutes 
before the lights went out." 

" What's his name? " 

" Rollins," I answered unhesita- 
tingly. 

" Does he live in the city? " 
" Central Park West." 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



791 



" Urn — swell. What took you to 
that hole?"*' 

" Rollins has been showing me the 
city for the past week, and wanted to 
let me see the rough as well as the 
smooth." 

Parks and the lieutenant exchanged 
glances. 

"You're just over?'' the former 
asked after a second or two. 

" Yes — I came across on the Ran- 
dania ten days ago."' 

" And what's your name and ad- 
dress?" 

I pave him both, and he nodded 
recognition of the name of the hotel. 

'* W ell. Mr. Mason, you look all 
right and you talk all right, but I'd 
like to know why your friend Rollins 
came to me and said that if I'd guaran- 
tee his safety in MacGregor's saloon 
to-night he'd put me wise to something 
good about that Rob Roy bunch I've 
been trying to hang something on for 
a year." 

I don't know whether my face be- 
trayed what I felt or not. Parks gave 
no sign of suspicion, and I dared not 
look up to see what the lieutenant 
thought. 

" He tried to tell me that he thought 
the brains of that bunch was a Filth 
Avenue millionaire ! What d'you think 
of that, Peters ? " 

Lieutenant Peters laughed, and I 
joined him — Heaven knows how. 

" That was the gag he gave me," 
Parks continued. '■ I thought he was 
loony, but as I had business down here 
to-night I thought I'd humor the poor 
little gink — and no offense to you, sir. 
Wonder where he skipped to?" 

" I should like to know, too," I de- 
clared, more anxiously than my in- 
quisitors realized. 

" Leave me his address, will you? " 
Parks asked. " No, you needn't mind. 
I'll get it in the telephone-book and 
call him later, to see if he got home. 
I knew you were his friend the minute 
I grabbed you. but I wanted to be sure 
you knew nothin' — and I guess you 
don't. Hope there's no ill-feelin'? " 



" I was a little hasty myself, if you 
will remember.'' 

Parks smiled and rose, and I fol- 
lowed suit. 

" Just a minute." 

The lieutenant's quiet voice sat me 
back in my chair again. Parks looked 
up and the lieutenant asked: 

" Are you all through ? " 

" Sure. He's dry." 

" Well, if you don't think I'm but- 
ting in, I'd like to ask him afew." 

Parks hesitated a moment, then sat 
down smiling. 

Peters saw that smile, I knew it 
would not do me any good. His gim- 
letlike eyes fastened themselves upon 
my face and did not leave it. 

'* What about that chauffeur story 
you told me, Mr. Mason? " 

1 laughed, and I meant it. Parks 
seemed at a loss. 

" Lots of chaps who have no money 
know all sorts of well-to-do people. I 
am tired of having no money, and 
driving somebody's car is about the 
only thing I could tackle. I lost quite 
a little money in Wall Street to-day, 
so I've simply got to get something to 
do. I suppose you read of it — the 
Rand Island smash ? " 

Parks smiled, and his eyes held a 
hint of kindness mingled with triumph. 
The lieutenant looked puzzled. 

*' You can't feeze him," the detect- 
ive declared, " because he's straight." 

•' All right. Ring that bell, will 
you ? " 

" What the—" 

" That's 'nough. I am running this 
station-house right now. Ring the 
bell." 

Parks, wfth a look of wonderment, 
pressed a button under the table; a 
policeman answered it. 

" Malone gone? " 

" No, sir." 

" Send him in here with that Varelli 
woman." 
" Yessir." 

''What's the idea?" Parks ques- 
tioned, and glanced from the lieutenant 
to me. " Do you know ? " 



792 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



I shook my head — and all over, too 
— and sat on pins and needles till Ma- 
lone and his prisoner entered. 

"Close the door! And come over 
here, both of you." the lieutenant or- 
dered sharply. " Here, you " — to Mrs. 
Yarelli — " keep your head up." 

The little Italian woman was sullen. 
Her inky-black eyes gleamed danger- 
ously. Malone, stolidly subservient, 
looked everywhere else but at his chief. 

" This gentleman says he's only been 
over here ten days," the latter declared 
slowly. " Now, take a good look at 
him, and tell me how you both come to 
have seen him before. You understand 
me?" 

The question was directed at Mrs. 
Varelli. 

" No un'erstan'," she replied sulkily. 

" You don't — eh? " The lieutenant 
took two steps toward her and she 
shrank from him, wriggling in the be- 
wildered Malone's grasp. 

" Don't be scared. I ain't going to 
do nothin' to you. Tell me — you've 
seen that man before? " 

Mrs. Yarelli's expression became 
even more dark. Her free hand went 
up and brushed her hair from her face, 
so that we all saw the savagery in it 
more clearly, and her glance, like a 
dagger-point, fell upon me. 

I sat perfectly still, waiting and 
watching to see her lips move. We 
were all doing that — only I think I 
realized the hate in her eyes more keen- 
ly than the others. 

" Sure I seen hecm — heem an' da 
Gregarack ! " 

Her voice was hoarse, threatening 
to crack, and the stillness that followed 
it was painful. Parks looked round; 
the kindness and triumph had gone 
from his face. 

"The Gregarach — eh?" The lieu- 
tenant grinned, as if it did not surprise 
him. " When and where was that? " 

" A wake ago, sorr ; I t-emimber 
now." Malone broke in suddenly. 
" Him and Mr. MacGregor an' this 
woman, sorr, came up Fifty-Fourth 
Street all together." 



" Is that right, Mrs. Varelli? You 
saw this gentleman last week ? " 

The girl nodded viciously. 

" Dey maka me go back to Tony, 
an' Tony heet me. Twen' dol' I save 
an' Tony steala ev'ry dol' — an' he heet 
me — dere ! " 

Throwing back her hair still further, 
she revealed a great blue-black lump 
that had bled a little. 

" Eef da Gregerack no maka me go 
back to Tony, I — " 

" All right — keep it for the district 
attorney. Take her away, Malone." 

The Irishman removed his charge, 
and when the door closed I felt 
strangely alone. 

Again the lieutenant grinned. 

Parks's lips were drawn very tightly 
together and the steadiness of his gaze 
embarrassed me. 

" So you'd kid me, eh? " 

He rose from his chair slowly — a 
giant of a man — his cheeks white with 
anger and his eyes shining amid the 
pallor like little pieces of live coal. 

I did not move. Something seemed 
to chain me to the chair, though my 
hands clenched and my sinews became 
painfully taut. 

" Go easy. Parks," the lieutenant's 
voice cautioned. " You ain't got any- 
thin' on him yet." 

"Huh! I'd only let Rockefeller 
fool me once. Put your hands on that 
table ! " 

" But, I say — " 

" Can that ! Put your hands on that 
table ! " 

" What are you going to do? " 

His right hand went behind him 
swiftly, and came forward again bear- 
ing a weapon. 

"Parks!" the lieutenant warned 
again. 

" It's all right. Put your hands on 
that table ! " 

I obeyed; not that I was afraid the 
beggar would shoot. I knew he 
wouldn't do that, but a revolver — well 
— did you ever look down the barrel of 
one in the hands of a chap who was 
very angry? 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



793 



In less time than I take to write it, 
he had gone through my pockets, first 
slapping them in search of a weapon, 
and came upon my pocketbook, which 
he tossed over to the lieutenant. 

" Look through that, Peters." 

Peters, without any compunction, 
looked and found principally — two 
paw n-tickets ! 

" One pendant, a thousand, at Berg- 
son's. Two rings, at seven hundred 
and fifty, at Nospim's," he read off 
quietly. " Hocked the same day. 
At Nospim's, too! Gee! You're a 
dandy! " 

He regarded me in undisguised ad- 
miration. 

Parks put up his revolver, took the 
tickets from the lieutenant, and looked 
them over. 

Then he paid me the same compli- 
ment. 

" You sure don't look it."' he said at 
last slowly, and shook his head. " But 
I know you ain't in with that Rob Roy 
bunch — yet. They'd never leave them- 
selves wide open like that. But I guess 
you'll sleep in the pen to-night, after 
all." 

And I did. 

7 

CHAPTER XXV. 

THE INTRUDER. 

I was held as a " suspicious per- 
son," because I would not explain how 
I, a bachelor, living in a hotel and 
acquainted with the suspected Mac- 
Gregor, had come by so feminine a 
piece of jewelry as a pendant. 

Parks then took me back to the 
privacy of the room we had been in, 
and, after further cross-examination, 
his opinion of me developed so far as 
to rate me as a " classy hotel and 
steamship crook," and he tried to 
frighten me by guessing at the length 
of my Scotland Yard record. 

He telephoned my hotel and appar- 
ently learned that no one had missed 
anything. 

Then he rang up the Rollins apart- 



ment and learned that my " friend " 
had not yet arrived home. It did not 
seem to excite him a great deal. Hang- 
ing up the receiver he swung lazily 
upon me. 

" Hope nothin's happened to your 
friend," he declared; "because if any- 
thing has, you're going to get in worse 
an' worse. How did you come to 
know this saloonkeeper they call the 
' Gregarack ' ? " 

" That is my affair." 

" All right. I ain't in any hurry. 
I've been after him for a year, and I 
guess I can wait a week or so longer." 

" You don't mean to say you're 
going to keep me in one of your cells 
for a week ! You can't. You have no 
charge — noth i ng. ' ' 

" No — but I will have when the guy 
that owns them sparks you soaked 
misses them. Don't tell me what I can 
or can't do." 

" Hang it all — isn't there such a 
thing as habeas corpus?'' 

He leaned his elbow upon the flat- 
top of the desk and looked with pene- 
trating steadiness up at me. 

" Sleep on this, Mr. Slick. If I want 
to you can do a seven-year stretch — 
just as you stand without nothin' but 
them bits o' paper to say ' Here's how.' 
I say, if I want to. 

" While you're try in' to sleep, re- 
member that we got the guinea woman, 
too, an' that she apparently doesn't 
love you nor Gregarack. She's likely 
to know a thing or two, and likely to 
holler. 

" Your friend Rollins may be down 
to see me to-morrow, and he may not 
be such a fool as he looks. If you 
want to get the benefit of bein' under 
the wire before your competitors, 
don't be bashful. It's your only 
chance. I said you'd sweat for that 
one you handed me, and I ain't goin' 
back on my word." 

I regarded him a moment or two, 
wondering if he really expected me to 
believe him. 

" You seem to forget there's a Brit- 
ish consul in this city." 



794 



THE ALL-STORY -MAGAZINE. 



i 



" He don't ciit any ice." His brows 
lowered and his hand went out to a 
push-bntton. " Think it over and let 
me know the result in the morning.'' 

A white-haired chap in uniform 
came in and saluted. 

"Take him away, - ' Parks growled, 
and the turnkey took my arm and led 
me out. 

I spent a very restless night in a 
dark, cubby hole of a place, wondering 
incessantly whether I would get out in 
time to meet Margaret at half past ten 
the following morning. 

Parks's threats could not keep me 
awake. I laughed at them. But a 
vision of Margaret — a little pale, per- 
haps, but hopeful — looking about her 
vainly for the man who had promised 
and did not come, grew more painfully 
distinct every minute. 

It did not soothe me a great deal to 
know that there was nothing criminal 
that co'iild be proved against me. 

Even though I should succeed in 
getting in touch with the British con- 
sul, and rousing him on my behalf, it 
was a thousand to one that the red- 
tape would not unwind quickly enough 
for my needs. 

Applying to Campbell was too risky. 
Parks knew him, and doubtless he had 
studied the Gregarach. too. That I 
knew them " both " might set the de- 
tective's mind oil upon a line of 
thought which Rollins's hint regarding 
the identity of the leader of the Rob 
Roy gang would serve to strengthen. 

I did not care to think of Rollins's 
treachery. It led my mind into very 
unpleasant fields of thought. 

Campbell's double-dealing seemed 
very near its end ; and with that end 
must come chaos. The man responsi- 
ble for it would not be likely to escape 
scatheless. 

The night dragged on, sixty hours 
to the minute it seemed, and some one 
who brought his heels down upon the 
flags in the passage, with the snap of 
an exploding percussion-cap, paced to 
and fro most of the time, making 
sleep still more impossible. 



Upon my right some poor fright- 
ened creature whined at intervals in an 
eery fashion, while the chap on my left 
snored frightfully, and once I he;.--"d 
the sound of a sob. 

Tn the cell the air was heavy to the 
point of suffocation, and everything 
one touched was hard and unyielding 
— no sympathy about anything. 

When the dawn came my mind had 
found no relief. Margaret's accusing 
eyes were everywhere. Even daylight 
did not dispel them; and. after that, 
with unreasonable speed flew on to- 
ward half past ten. 

About eight o'clock a uniformed 
chap brought me wretched coffee and 
rolls, which I would not touch. Ten 
minutes later another fellow came in 
and told me I was " wanted." He led 
me into the same room as before. 

Parks was there alone." 

The detective seemed to have had 
as little sleep as I. Pie sat at the desk 
in a leaden sort of way, growled at 
the fellow who had brought me in, so 
that he saluted and departed ; then the 
detective tapped the desk for a minute 
or two with a huge digit, while his 
gaze, heavy as his attitude, came round 
to me verv slowlv. 

"Well?" 

" I'd like to telephone the British 
consul as soon as his office opens," 
T declared as calmly as possible. 

Parks ignored the remark com- 
pletely. 

" Have you thought it over? " he 
asked deliberately. 

" There was nothing to think over." 

"No? Your friend Rollins hasn't 
got home yet." 

I stared at him, unable to utter a 
syllable, then : 

" You're quite sure of that ? " 

" Yes — and I guess you are, too." 

" What do you mean? " 

" Xothin' that you don't under- 
stand," he returned sharply. " Rollins 
was last seen with you. You went 
into that place together by the front 
door. The lights go out. I find you 
making your getaway over the back 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



795 



fences. Rollins disappears. What's 
the answer? 

" I'll tell you. That poor little gink- 
was too wise an' you got on to him. 
You were great pals — you an' him — 
but he never doped it out that you 
were stringin' him, gettin' ready to do 
him up. You met Gregarack last week 
and fixed it for last night and agreed 
to lead Rollins down to his finish. I 
guess he had a hunch there was some- 
thing liable to happen to him and he 
came to me for protection. Now, do 
you know where you stand ? " 

He leaned a little farther over, and 
his eyes did their best to frighten me. 

" You mean that I am in danger of 
being hanged for murder? " 

He sat back in his chair again and 
regarded me. 

" Some nerve," he concluded finally, 
and added in an easy tone : " Grega- 
rack should be here in an hour.'' 

" You mean — " 

I stopped and shut my teeth on the 
rest. 

" Huh ! That worries you." 

I made no answer. Everything 
round about me was quiet as the grave, 
so much so that I had a suspicion that 
the ro.om was sound-proof. Parks 
moved a little in his chair and 
drummed upon the desk again. 

"Give yourself a chance," he ad- 
vised suddenly in an almost friendly 
tone. " You won't stand any when the 
crash comes, if you don't get in ahead 
of the bunch. They'll be fallin' over 
themselves tryin' to get to the district 
attorney. 

" This ain't London. A slick article 
like you can play merry-go-round wit' 
Scotland Yard, because they ain't got 
nothin' on you. They got to get evi- 
dence — loads of it — afore they can put 
you away. 

"Here it's different. If we don't 
like a guy's looks — that's enough. If 
he makes a hit with us — that's enough, 
too, the other way. I'm givin' you a 
chance before the Gregarack comes. 
After that you're dished. How about 
it?" 



I almost told him he was an ass, but 
checked the impulse in time, and, re- 
membering that he was viewing me 
from the " hotel and steamship crook " 
angle, did not think his remarks so 
idiotic. 

" Sorry, but I can't take advantage 
of your offer, because I have nothing 
to tell." 

Parks's eyebrows fell with ominous 
suddenness. His face became black as 
thunder; for half a minute I was cal- 
culating which would be the better 
blow — an uppercut or a straight right. 

I thought he was going to hurl him- 
self at me in sheer bad temper. 

But he didn't. 

The door opened just then and — 
"Oh — hello, Parks! On the job 
bright and early, eh? Here's a gentle- 
man who wants to see you." 

I turned my head and saw a man 
in the uniform of a police-captain, 
holding the door open for Campbell. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

TIIIv DENIAL. 

He closed the door behind him and, 
for a moment or two, stood with his 
back to it — a modern Hercules, garbed 
as a gentleman, smiling contentedly 
upon our amazement. 

Parks's lips worked convulsively, 
and I thought he was going to demand 
Campbell's expulsion; instead, he rose 
slowly, staring as one who sees a 
ghost ! 

I looked from one to the other in 
astonishment, wondering how on earth 
Campbell, managed to keep his face 
straight. 

The uniformed individual, whom I 
took to be the captain of the precinct, 
went to the chair Parks had occupied, 
and said, as he sat down : 

" Mr. Campbell has an order from 
Judge Farquhar to parole his friend, 
Mr. Mason, in his custody. I guess 
that goes." 

' " This gentleman is Mr. Mason," 
Campbell declared, coming over to me, 



796 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



his. deep tones sounding like the low, 
reverberant roll of distant thunder. 
" I'm sure he does not look like a hor- 
rible example." 

He gripped my hand in both of his. 

" I'm sorry I could not get down 
sooner. I just got in from Chicago at 
one o'clock and found that fathead, 
Rollins, in my rooms, scared to death 
that the police were after him for get- 
ting horribly drunk last night and 
raising the dust generally. He only re- 
membered that you had been with him 
after I asked him how you had been 
getting along." 

He laughed, and I joined him in un- 
qualified admiration. 

The captain grinned, too. and 
glanced up at Parks, who stood apart, 
studying Campbell with an intcntness 
that I thought dangerous. 

" Then, of course," Campbell went 
on, " the search for you began. Rol- 
lins was sure you had been killed. The 
place you were at was just that sort, 
he said — where men kill men for a 
song and get drunk on the music ! " 

Again we laughed — all but Parks. 
Campbell turned to, the detective. 

" Where on earth did you find him? 
Why was he held here overnight?" 

I 'arks licked his lips. He looked un- 
comfortable and did not seem very 
anxious to reply. 

"What's the' trouble. Parks?" the 
captain asked, scrutinizing the de- 
tective heavily. " Mr. Mason looks all 
right to me. and I guess if Mr. Camp- 
bell and Judge Farquhar say he's 
O. K-. that about cinches it. You got 
him entered as suspicious. What Avas 
he doin"? " 

•' Climbin' back-yard fences." Parks 
returned sulkily, and went no farther. 

" Back-yard fences ! " Campbell ex- 
claimed in horror. " For lands' sakes, 
Mason — where? " 

" Somewhere on Eleventh Avenue, 
T think — a bit west of a place where 
they keep cars." I replied as innoeently 
as I could, and explained why I had 
been climbing fences, just as I had ex- 
plained it to Parks. 



The captain's brows came together 
in a frown. 

" That's MacGregor's saloon, isn't 
it? " he asked of Parks. 

" Oh ! That peculiar chap ! " Camp- 
bell exclaimed. " I own most of that 
section, you know, and if my memory 
serves me right. MacGregor rents the 
two stores next to his place, because 
he wishes to make a dance-hall out of 
them. I am not particularly in favor 
of dance-halls — not his sort. Would 
you recommend me permitting it, cap- 
tain ? " 

The captain eyed his interrogator 
for about half a minute. Parks was 
watching Campbell like a hawk, and 
both officials seemed to have the same 
thought. 

*' Have you ever seen MacGregor, 
Mr. Campbell?" the captain asked 
very quietly. 

" Once, 1 think, in my agent's office. 
He was a hulking man, if I am not 
mistaken, and my firmest recollection 
of him is the waistcoat he wore. Does 
his place make as much noise as it 
did?" 

Not the flicker of an eyelid was visi- 
ble, and the smile, a little whimsical, 
was perfect. 

The captain looked puzzled and 
laughed forcedly. 

" It's the quietest saloon in my pre*' 
cinct. MacGregor runs it like a tea- 
room, though the worst crowd in 
Christendom collects there — every 
man of them's been behind the bars 
for everything — from petty larceny to 
murder. Two of the classiest safe- 
crackers in the business are among 
them — the funniest pair to look at you 
ever saw. Each has only one eye — 
but even with that landmark we can't 
get enough on them to put them where 
they belong. Did you read of that 
Yonkers job — where the burglars left 
their cards behind? " 

" I believe I did," Campbell replied. 
I glanced toward my boots. 

"Well — we know who did it. 
There's only one man in the business 
who would open a safe like that — but 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



797 



we can't touch him. It isn't a bit o' 
use pulling him to have to let him go, 
because we can't collect enough evi- 
dence to hold him. And he's got 
money to burn in his defense. We'd 
have grabbed MacGregor long ago but 
for that." 

Campbell nodded understandingly. 

" Seems a pity that the law should 
be so arranged to make the presence or 
absence of funds an important factor. 
There's something rotten in that state 
of Denmark. Didn't you say, Mason, 
that you were arrested by the detective 
here after you'd got over the second 
fence? " 

The sudden switching of the subject 
made Parks fidget. Apparently he did 
not care for the change. 

" Yes, the second fence." I an- 
swered, with my attention fixed upon 
the detective. " And he hauled me 
through an empty store to the street." 

That was rather brutal, I know, but 
it was what Campbell wanted. 

He glanced quickly at the captain 
and back to Parks. Neither looked 
very happy. 

I suppose you got permission from 
MacGregor, Mr. Parks? " Campbell 
queried mildly. " Any particular 
trouble expected?" 

I guess I owe you an apology, Mr. 
Campbell," Parks began, as if deciding 
to put the best face he could upon the 
matter. " I didn't know I was pullin' 
a friend of yours — but a friend of 
MacGregor's." 

That velvet-covered claw was al- 
most clever. The captain turned his 
head, and we all, from knowledge or 
suspicion, studied Campbell's face. 

He smiled a little satirically, and his 
eyes were peculiarly quiet. 

" I haven't much respect for Mac- 
Gregor if he gives the police permis- 
sion to enter his back yards to arrest 
his friends. Aren't you just a trifle 
mixed, Mr. Parks?" 

Parks looked it, but he growled de- 
fiantly. 

" He knows MacGregor. He was 
seen — " 



" Doubtless," Campbell interrupted 
quickly. "If he was at the chap's 
saloon he would be likely to meet and 
know him. I am very sorry Rollins 
took him down to that place, and when 
he gets back from Boston — " 

" Boston? " Parks said it. 
Yes, when he left me he said he 
was going to run up to Boston till the 
thing blew over. He was awfully 
scared, and I imagine he thought he 
did something much more serious than 
putting out the lights just for the 
dubious pleasure of hearing a lot of 
women scream. 

"Alter I had telephoned Mr. 
Mason's hotel, and learned that the 
police had been inquiring there about 
him, I rang up Rollins at his apart- 
ment, and they told me he hadn't put 
in an appearance, but had called up to 
say he would not be home, as he was 
going right out of town for a few 
days. But I don't believe the beggar 
went at all. 

" Perhaps he thought better of it as 
he grew more sober, and " — nodding 
toward Parks — " I think it was your 
name he babbled in the early hours of 
the morning in connection with some- 
thing or other he had to tell you. Ring 
him up again and see if he's actually 
gone." 

It was superbly done, and there was 
more emphasis upon that '' again " 
than I could understand. Where he 
had got all his information baffled me, 
and in those few minutes I stood men- 
tally aghast, learning to appreciate 
why Campbell had kept out of jail so 
long. 

Parks looked like a man who had 
been fooled and knows it. His lips 
tightened, and I saw him glance to- 
ward the telephone, then sharply into 
his tormentor's face. 

" How do you know I called be- 
fore? " 

That flattened me. I shrank behind 
Campbell, mentally and physicallv. 

Campbell brushed a speck from his 
coat-lapel and murmured to it as the 
rumble of wheels came to our ears. 



798 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" Some one in the Rollins establish- 
ment, who was very much annoyed, 
asked me when 1 rang up, 1 Are you 
here again?' and .then, of course, 
apologized, and told me that a man 
named Parks had rung up several 
times, and since Miss Rollins wasn't 
very well the repeated ringing of the 
telephone bell ' was annoying. Didn't 
she say, too, that Rollins had gone out 
of town ? *' 

The affirmative answer to both ques- 
tions was written in Parks's face; and 
I don't suppose it made him feel any 
better for me to know that he had lied 
to me. There was no hint of malice in 
Campbell's tones. He was laughing at 
Parks, and I think the detective 
knew it. 

The captain rose abruptly and said, 
in a rather tired tone : 

" Well, I guess the argument doesn't 
lead anywhere, Mr. Campbell. If you'll 
come out to the desk with me we'll get 
Mr. Mason's belongings. My advice 
to him is to keep away from joints like 
MacGregor's. He'll be less likely to 
get into trouble." 

" My point exactly, captain,'' Camp- 
bell declared as he gripped my arm. 
" Only you mustn't blame Mr. Mason 
— he's only been here ten days." 

Parks's right hand, resting upon the 
table, clenched slowly. He did not 
speak, but I could see that he was 
thinking very rapidly, and could feel 
his eyes digging into the middle of my 
back as Campbell and I followed the 
captain out of the room to the desk 
outside. 

There was a black police-van at the 
door. Campbell's car was visible 
through the window. Several of the 
morbidly curious hung about the side- 
walk. 

And there was a young man talking 
— or rather, trying to talk — to the 
lieutenant at the desk. 

Campbell saw him before I did, and 
with perfect ease took the captain 
aside, as if he had something very pri- 
vate to say to him, leaving me to at- 
tack the situation alone. 



The young man was Beans Borrow- 
in an ! 

A chill struck my heart, and it sank 
with nauseating suddenness. My hand 
went out, fumbling for the rail about 
the desk, ami. blindly finding it, my 
fingers held on like grim death. Other- 
wise I think I should have collapsed. 

That stuffy cell yawned again, with 
Campbell and his lieutenant for neigh- 
bors. 

Beans's glance came over the lieu- 
tenant's shoulder, and his eyes, for "a 
second, perhaps, became like saucers — 
then they were mere slits. 

Feeling the floor sliding away from 
under me, I heard the lieutenant at the 
desk say bruskly : 

" You can't see her unless when 
she's on her way to the wagon. What'd 
you wanna see her for, anyway? You 
ain't a dago! " 

Beans's dusty face grew black, and 
as I got a grip upon my legs and 
moved in a leaden sort of way to the 
desk he edged away from it and 
skulked, foot by fool, nearer to the 
outer door, his expression gradually 
becoming more doubtful as he studied 
Campbell's perfectly tailored back. 
You're goin' to shake us? " 

The lieutenant's affable query 
startled me. 

" Yes," I stammered, and fervently 
hoped he spoke the truth. 

" Well, I guess you'll find every- 
thing there." 

He handed me a package, which I 
accepted, not really caring whether 
everything was in it or not, and I 
stuffed my watch, card-case, and so 
forth, into my pockets as quickly as I 
could, with an anxious eye for the 
threatening situation round about me. 

With his side toward the street and 
Beans, Campbell faced the door which 
led to the cells. His right hand, out of 
the captain's sight, rested on his hip. 

Suddenly Parks appeared in the 
doorway, walking with lockstep pre- 
cision before a prisoner apparently 
just brought from the " cooler." 

It was' Mrs. Varelli. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



799 



Still shuffling toward the door, re- 
garding Campbell's attire, Beans's ex- 
pression changed. Halting and hesi- 
tating a moment or two, his pallid lips 
parted in a grin that vanished even 
more quickly than it had come, and, 
turning, he slipped out and away like 
a shadow just as Parks, within a yard 
or two of Campbell and the captain, 
swerved to one side. 

Mrs. Varelli, startled a little, looked 
up and stopped as she so suddenly 
caught sight of a man who looked like 
the Gregarach, yet was so different. 

Campbell gave no sign that he knew 
she was there, even though the captain 
broke off in the middle of something 
he was saying to glance in her di- 
rection. 

Disheveled and tattered, her cheeks 
streaked with tears, she hated all the 
world just then, but Parks, swinging 
about to watch, only saw her eyes 
brighten and the sullenness die out of 
her face. 

She almost smiled. 

" The lady seems to think she knows 
you, Mr. Campbell? " Parks suggested 
pleasantly, and the policeman, who ap- 
parently understood his part, did not 
move on. 

" Er— what lady ? Oh ! " 

Campbell appeared to notice Mrs. 
Varelli of a sudden. 

" I'm afraid she has the advantage 
of me," he said smoothly, after a mo- 
ment's study. 

Mrs. Varelli shot a swift glance to- 
ward Parks, and her face became as 
expressionless as a blank wall. 

"No under stan'.'' 

" You've seen him before? " Parks 
assisted, as if out of sheer kindness he 
was humoring the poor girl. 

She looked at him, then at Campbell, 
then at the captain, and back to Parks 
again. 

And shook her head. 

" I know de cap'n w'en Tony steals 
da mon' las' year."' 

" Yes, yes — but the other gentle- 
man?" 

Mrs. Varelli looked straight up into 



Campbell's face and found him 
smiling. 

" How I know bigga man lika dat? 
Me — I'm poora gal ! " 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

BY THE WAY. 

The sigh of relief I drew was quite 
audible. I am sure the lieutenant 
heard it. But all he said was, " Sign 
this; " and, tingling from head to foot 
as a result of the reaction. 1 grabbed 
the pen he held out to me and shakily 
signed a paper of some sort that might 
have been my own death-warrant for 
all I knew. 

" All ready, Mason? " 

Campbell's deep-toned query helped 
to dispel the numbness that had taken 
possession of my mind and limbs, and, 
glancing upward, I saw him looking 
past the chagrined Parks, over Mrs. 
Varelli's head, with a suggestion that 
they both bored him a little. 

Parks glanced toward the policeman 
in charge of the prisoner, whose eyes 
were studiously bent upon the floor, 
and they moved on toward the police- 
wagon. 

Campbell shook hands with the cap- 
tain, who nodded to me and passed 
into his office. 

Then the Gregarach held out his 
hand to Parks. 

The detective's cheeks grew scarlet, 
and his eyes looked everywhere in a 
second — at me — at the men hanging 
about the reserves' room — out toward 
the street, where a small crowd stared 
at the poor little Italian woman being 
driven — Heaven knows where! 

" Good-by, Mr. Parks." 

" Good day, sir." 

There was all the difference in the 
world in a word. Parks meant an 
rcvoir as he accepted the hand of the 
ntan he had been " tryin' to get some- 
thin' on for a year." 

In half a minute more we were out 
in the. street and into the waiting car. 

Every throb of the machine spelled 



/ 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



800 

freedom, and the smile came back into 
Margaret's eyes as I glanced at my 
watch and found I had an hour to 
spare. 

At once the car swung out from the 
curb and away from the sordid at- 
mosphere of criminality. Two scjuares 
later I protested hurriedly. 

" I say, I can't go home with you. 
I have an important engage — " 

" Not to-day, Liu afraid/* Camp- 
bell interrupted, and the sparkle de- 
parted from his eyes. " Margaret will 
be unable to keep her appointment. 
She met with a slight accident last eve- 
ning and — " 

••What?" 

" Rollins claims that she tripped 
over a rug in the library and struck 
her head against a sharp corner of the 
mantel. But the slight wound is at the 
back of the head, and there is a blue- 
black mark over the left temple, such 
as might have been made by the blow 
of a clenched fist." 

I stared at him in horror. 

" You — you don't mean to say 
he—" 

" Exactly." His jaws snapped on 
the word like a trap, and for a moment 
I felt limp. 

Then resentment, like a river in 
flood, swept over me. I saw red and 
Rollins's ashen face across the table in 
the club the previous evening. I un- 
derstood, with a hideous desire to 
wipe out his leering smile, why he had 
been so extremely nervous when I 
mentioned Margaret's name. 

" Don't look so murderous," Camp- 
bell said quietly, after a while. " One 
might believe the delay annoyed your' 

" What the deuce do you mean ? " 

•• Wheesht, man. it's all right. I'm 
glad it does. I found Margaret in my 
rooms this morning, and she told me 
all about it. She ran away and came 
to the only place she could trust. But 
I took her home again. 

" She told me several complimen- 
tary things about you, and I'm begin- 
ning to think they weren't altogether 
too' inflated, but I'm afraid you don't 



realize what matrimony on twenty- 
five-a-week means?" 

Into Broadway we went, but the 
bustle of life there did not make me 
feel any more cheerful We were 
going up-town when I thought we 
ought to be going down to the ferry. 

" What the dickens have you got to- 
do with it? " I asked after a minute or 
so, and have to confess that I was a 
little jealous of his air of authority 
over Margaret's actions. " I've played 
my part in your affairs, and I think 
you're going to have enough to do 
keeping out of jail without bothering 
about my matrimonial intentions." 

He only grinned. 

" Margaret wouldn't marry you if I 
said ' No.' " 

"The deuce she wouldn't! You 
might as well say that she only agreed 
to do so simply because you put her 
up to it ! " 

" Pretty nearly that." 

This put a clamp on my tongue and 
made me dull and heavy. Campbell 
looked up at a great electric sign and 
remarked with beastly irrevelance : 

" Looks gaunt and ugly in the day- 
light, doesn't it? " 

But I did not speak again until we 
had reached his rooms. 

A I ter I had washed and made a pre- 
tense of tackling breakfast — the while 
Campbell hung about the window epiite 
a lot — I asked pointblank, with a men- 
tal vision of the blue-black mark on 
Margaret's forehead before me: 

" Has Rollins really gone to Bos- 
ton ? " 

Campbell turned his head. 

" Not exactly. At present I believe 
he is recovering from the effects of a 
harmless but ,necessary drug in my 
th Street house." 

" Good Lord! " 

" Interesting, isn't it? But there is 
nothing to be alarmed about — yet. 
Let's go inside and smoke. I want to 
telephone several people." 

I rose and followed him into an ad- 
joining room, feeling my nether limbs 
a little uncertain. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



801 



" How the dickens did you get*him 
there?*' 1 asked, accepting one of his 
cigars. 

" On his feet. Crabbe and Crowley 
assisted him." 

" They were the three men — " 

" I suppose so. They walked him 
out under the noses of Policemen 
Carey and Ral'ferty and brought him 
up to me. I didn't know that anything 
had happened to you until I called the 
night-clerk at your hotel to see if you 
had reached home all right. He told 
me that a Detective Parks had said he 
had you in custody and had been seek- 
ing information about you. Then, of 
course. I understood that the motor- 
man had been playing escort to Rollins 
when he walked down Fifty-Fourth 
Street in front of you." 

I sat down slowly. 

" Where were you? " 

" At home, but Crowley saw him. 
though he lost him afterward, and you 
found him in the last place in the world 
Crowley would have thought of look- 
ing for him. I knew then that to get 
you out of jail I'd either have to let 
Rollins go or arrange a lie to account 
for his disappearance. The lie was 
much easier." 

The shadow of a smile came and 
went, and blowing a long stream of 
smoke toward the ceiling, he walked 
over to the window and looked down 
into the street, seeming to have for- 
gotten that he Avanted to telephone. I 
could not see how the lie had been at 
all easy. It seemed deuced risky to 
me. 

'• Do you know that Rollins went to 
Parks and told him that the leader of 
that choice company of yours was a 
Fifth Avenue millionaire? " 

Campbell turned his head. 

" How do you know that? " 

" Parks made a confidant of me 
before he found the pawn-tickets." 

" I see. I knew Rollins rang up 
3100 Spring from his apartment about 
a week ago and met Parks at Columbus 
Circle, but, of course, I could not learn 
what was said." 
6 S 



I stared at him and laughed fool- 
ishly. 

" How on earth — " 

" It isn't difficult. People who live 
in apartment houses sign a slip for 
every call, and the number N of the call 
is on the slip. Rollins hasn't the faint- 
est idea that any one in his domestic 
employ knows what 3100 Spring 
means, any more than he realizes that 
practically every movement he has 
made since you landed here has been 
watched. 

" That is why I went to the trouble 
of sending you over those fences. I 
suspected that Rollins would fetch an 
escort. It isn't every man who can 
purpose murder with the assistance of 
the police ! " 

The audacity of the thing made me 
gasp. Had I been assassinated Rollins 
would actually have had the favorable 
testimony of the police upon his side. 

Campbell glanced out of the window 
again, and I took the opportunity to 
think a little in an effort to get things 
straight. When he faced about and 
began pacing the floor restlessly I 
watched him for a minute, then asked : 

" You mean you have some one in 
Rollins's apartment — " 

Margaret's maid. I put her there 
some time ago with Margaret's inno- 
cent cooperation, and it was she who 
helped me with the lie. She used to be 
a dresser in the same company as the 
Cobbler's mother, and is the lady, if 
you will remember, who did not care 
so much for Smith's blood as she did 
for his money. So when I needed some 
one of the sort, her qualifications 
seemed to answer perfectly." 

" Then she knows that Rollins is the 
Gobbler's father." 

" Yes — and who I am. too. But 
there is no murder in her eye, and 
she is no friend of the police. She is 
making too much money very easily to 
wish to have the men who pay it — " 

"Blackmail!" 

" No — no, of course not. But if 
Rollins were dead, and I were in jail, 
her job, which is paying her two sal- 



802 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



aries, would be gone. After I am 
through with him. she can blackmail 
him if she cares to. As for myself, 
she can't tell Parks any more than 
Rollins has done." 

" But she might hit at Margaret." 

" Not much fear of that, principally 
because when I'm through with Rollins. 
Margaret won't be there to be hit." 

I colored slightly, and felt the steady 
gleam of his eyes uncomfortable. 

" Don't mistake me. Didderington," 
he said in tones that went fathoms 
deep. " I have seen this coming since 
the day Rollins ran away to Europe 
and left Nessie Borrowman behind to 
eat her heart out and die. So long as 
that scum crawled the earth I knew 
that there was no safety for me or 
mine. ""But I made sure that if I fell, 
he would fall with me — and under- 
neath ! " 

He went to the window again, and 
my eyes followed him dubiously, won- 
dering what the end would be. 

After a little while he backoned me. 
and I rose and joined him. 

Through the curtains I saw a taxi- 
cab, a trolley, two women, a truck, a 
boy and a dog, a large touring-car. and 
several men. 

" Well?" I asked wonderingly. 

" See that hat and shoulders just 
down below ? " 

I craned my neck and saw. 

" Yes. What about them ? " 

" I saw them in my mind's eye 
months ago, and they just arrived this 
minute. They belong to one of Parks's 
men. And there is probably another 
we don't see. There will be two more 

watching the th Street house, 

where Rollins is. If I am not mistaken. 
Ave are going to have an interesting 
evening." 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A BUSY WIRE. 

" WE ! " 

" Yes. We must have everything in 
order — parent's consent, and so on. 



It's all right. There's no danger. 
Those fellows down there are only 
anxious to know how I change my 
skin. Just a minute." 

He picked up the receiver while I 
stood staring blankly, wondering if he 
wasn't quite mad. 

Giving a Harlem number, he called 
presently : 

"Hello! Jimmy? MacGregor. 
Yes. He's all right. Ship those 
things he left with you the other day 
up to Delia's.- Yes — to-day, and any- 
thing else you may have. Nothing 
else? Good. 

" No — not yet. But there's a chance 
that some people may be up to look 
you over. All right. You know what" 
to do. Yes. I'm out of town. Oh — 
three or four days. Good-by." 

The receiver went up on the hook 
slowly. 

"How do you run that place?" I 
asked, marveling at his indifference at 
the detective below. 

He did not look at me as he answered 
absently : 

" It's just a blind. We hold our col- 
lections there for a while, and then 
get rid of them. Try and amuse your- 
self for five minutes. I think there are 
some English weeklies on that table 
over there. Hello ! " 

This time it was RpHins's apart- 
ment. 

Campbell did not ask for any one. 
and the English weeklies did not in- 
terest me nearly as much as the one- 
sided conversation that followed. 

"Hello! Campbell. Yes. Any 
more calls? That's good. Yes. Miss 
Rollins feeling better? No. She 
mustn't do that. I'll call for her. 
I am afraid you'd better not. I may 
need you there. Make it some other 
night. 

Impossible, my dear girl. I am 
sure Miss Rollins needs you, and I do 
not think your sister is as important 
as your safety is to yourself. They 
must not have the faintest suspicion — 
What's that? Don't you think it's 
rather late in the day to say you don't 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



803 



care? Better think it over. Quite im- 
possible. Good-by." 

The receiver went up impatiently 
and his brows came together. 

" Is that girl pretty? " I asked. 

" Yes— rather. Why?" 

" And she wants to go out to- 
night? " 

•' To her sister's. How did you 
guess that ? " 

" Has she gone to her sister's often 
of late? " 

" Quite a lot. Why the catechism? " 

" Because I am afraid her sister is — 
Ralph Van Huysen." 

I suppose I saw in his face what he 
had seen in mine many times — amaze- 
ment of the blankest order. But there 
was something else : an intermingling 
of fear and anger — mostly the latter. 
His eyes became like steel, pitiless and 
hard. 

"Say what ye mean, man!" He 
snapped it at me with a trace of Scotch 
and as if I were to blame for the whole 
thing. 

And I told him of the occasion on 
which I had rung up the Rollins apart- 
ment. 

It made him rise and take to pacing 
the floor with the impatience of a caged 
Hon. Suddenly he swung upon me and 
exploded : 

" There you have an example of the 
everlasting conceit of which we are all 
more or less guilty. This girl saw 
Xessie Borrowman throw her life 
away on a worthless cur. closed her 
eyes, and cursed her murderer at her 
bedside. Yet she let's herself be fooled 
in the same way by a whelp of the same 
breed." 

1 nodded. 

" Seems like it, doesn't it?" 

" And the worst of the business is 
that we cannot afford to interfere or 
antagonize her just at present." 

Campbell rang for his man. who had 
the face of a Greek god and the accent 
of a cockney. 

" Pack one of my suit-cases at once 
and go to the Grand Central Station, 
and take a ticket for anywhere except 



Boston. When you go out, carry the 
bag so that my initials will be plainly 
seen. Stay away three or four days. 
You understand? " 

'* Yes, sir," without emotion. 

" When you get down-stairs you 
needn't hurry about it. A trolley will 
do." 

" Yes. sir." 

" Tell V ail to get out the car. and 
drive to the Van Huysens', and wait 
for me there. Let me know when you 
are ready to go." 

" Yes, sir." 

The valet departed, and I looked to- 
ward Campbell for an explanation. 

*' Just a minute." he said absently, 
and went to the telephone again and, 
getting the connection he wanted, 
called very quietly : 

"Hello! Crowley ? Yes. Is he 
still asleep? That doesn't matter. Let 
him whine. But if he makes too much 
noise gag him. Any one hanging 
about outside? Well, I fancy they are 
there, just the same. Good-by." 

As he rose I was impelled to ask : 

How the deuce do you keep com- 
mand of these people? " 

" Organization — good pay — safety 
— fear of what rebellion means — the 
power of money — and these." 

He held out his great hands clenched, 
and there was no denying the brute in- 
fluence of them. 

" I never preach the twaddle of up- 
lifting the masses," he continued. 
" Let Fifth Avenue and Berkeley 
Square stay where they are. They 
would be out of place in Hell's Kitchen 
or Whitechapel, and would, maybe, 
only make them worse than they are. 

" It's only the unfortunates who 
cannot help themselves out of perpetual 
poverty and sickness and tears that I 
bother with. The others are living the 
lives the Lord gave them — and if 
they're no' very bonny, it canna' be 
laid to your door or mine. 

" As for my crew, they know that 
I have money. They've seen its power 
and sheltered themselves behind its 
capabilities. The machinery of the law 



804 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



can't be set in motion by the poor. It 
costs too much. The seedy plaintiff is 
sneered at the minute he appears. Jus- 
tice, like any commodity, is bought and 
paid for. 

" That Yarelli woman had sense 
enough to remember that this morning. 
She did not .recognize me simply be- 
cause she forgot her hatred to remem- 
ber that I am her only hope of de- 
fense. Her life hasn't held much for 
which to be thankful; and if that beast 
of a husband of hers dies, the least she 
can expect is a life sentence — if we 
don't buy some justice for her. I 
must run down and see my friend 
Seton Tait about it. He's rather clever 
in affairs of that sort."' 

He went to the window, and I fol- 
lowed him and saw Parks's man still 
in evidence. 

" What's your idea in sending your 
man out of town? " I asked. 

" Watch." 

The valet came in, said he was ready, 
and was told to depart at once. 

We stood at the window, studying 
the hat and shoulders, and presently 
saw the valet appear, carrying a suit- 
case with R. M. C. marked in white 
upon it. 

The hat and shoulders became sud- 
denly animated, and resolved them- 
selves into a man of large proportions, 
who carefully followed the suit-case on 
board a trolley. 

" That means there arc two of 
them," Campbell declared. " And the 
other, if I had my car brought here, 
wouldn't bother hiring a taxi to fol- 
low me unless you were with me. Now, 
of course, he thinks we are going to 
separate and that I shall follow the 
suit-case. The man we don't see will 
follow you." 

" Me?" 

" You're a suspicious character. 
The police blotter says so. and Parks 
thinks you are much more so. But our 
friend down-stairs only thinks he will 
follow you. When I walk out of here 
and stroll across the park to the Van 
Huysens' he will know that I am not 



going to walk to anywhere that my 
valet needs a trolley-car to reach. He 
will flounder about for half a minute 
or so, wishing there were two of him, 
and then — he will follow me across the 
park to the Van Huysens'. Five min- 
utes later you will leave here and go 
up to Delia's. That is her address." 

He scribbled the number upon a 
card and 1 took it blankly. 

" And then what? " 

" Stay there till nine - thirty this 

evening, then come down to th 

Street. Delia will give you Margaret's 
jewelry, and you may bring it down 
with you. You can't very well go back 
to your hotel — at least, not comfort- 
ably. The management would prob- . 
ably tell you to pay your bill and get 
out. Don't forget. Five minutes after 
I leave, followed by his nibs down- 
stairs, yo« skip up-town. The trolley 
passing here will take you almost to 
the door.'' 

I agreed blindly; because he held the 
key to my future and there was nothing 
else to do. 

Standing by the window after he 
had left me. I saw him stride forth 
and walk directly across the street, to 
stroll leisurely toward the nearest park 
entrance. 

A taxi crawled into view and after 
him. 

Campbell turned into the park, and 
some one got out of the taxi and fol- 
lowed. It was all very obvious — when 
pointed out beforehand. 

Then the telephone bell shrilled. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

QUITE UNEXPECTED. 

The sound startled me. and for a 
minute I did not know whether to an- 
swer or not. While I was considering 
it rang again more insistently. 

Proving how I felt toward it, I ac- 
tually approached on tiptoe and, gin- 
gerly taking up the receiver, called 
quietly : 

•' Hello!" 



A ' THIEVES' COMEDY. 



805 



" There's your party," a sharp, 
feminine voice answered, and a small, 
carefully modulated one asked in- 
stantly : 

" Hello! Mr. Campbell's apart- 
ment ? " 

" Who is speaking, please? " 

" Margaret. This is Mr. Mason, 
isn't it? " 

" Good morning. How did you 
know I was here ? " 

" Saw you and Mr. Campbell go up. 
I'm only half a dozen doors away. I 
saw Mr. Campbell go out, so I thought 
perhaps you'd come up and let me 
apologize properly. There's nothing to 
be afraid of. Papa's gone out of town. 
You know the number?" 

"Of course, but — " 

" Then it shouldn't be very difficult. 
Good-by." 

And she was gone, leaving me in a 
most unpleasant quandary. 

If I did not accept her invitation she 
would very likely be displeased. If I 
did I should disobey Campbell's orders. 

I think that settled it; that ajid a 
desire to be assured that she was not 
badly hurt. Her voice did not sound 
as if she had been, but the evidence 
wasn't altogether satisfactory, and 
Campbell's attitude of proprietorship 
over her rankled. 

There was little or no hesitation 
after that. 

When I got down into the street, 
had looked carefully around, and could 
find no trace of anything that looked 
like a detective. I could see no danger 
in delaying my trip up-town fifteen 
minutes or so. 

There was a policeman at the corner, 
but he paid no attention to me as I 
passed, and I reached the Rollins 
apartment without any bother. 

Of course. I was a little dubious 
about encountering Margaret's maid ; 
but since she had never seen me. she 
was not likely to know that it had been 
I to whom she had spoken on the tele- 
phone. 

A Jap butler took me for granted 
and showed me into the drawing-room. 



There was no one there and not an- 
other servant in sight, so I made my- 
self comfortable in a very roomy chair 
which made me sit with my back to 
some hangings that blotted out another 
room. 

Gluing my attention upon the door, 
I waited possibly half a minute, and 
then a soft hand from behind my chair 
went over my eyes and another over 
my mouth, choking off an exclamation 
vof surprise. 

" S-h! " 

I felt a thrill go through me that 
raced down to my boots, and, reach- 
ing up, I caught both hands and pulled 
their owner into view. 

She made me gasp. 

Her cheeks were not even a little 
pale, and there wasn't the slightest 
evidence of a wound. Lean ing away 
from me, crimson-cheeked and laugh- 
ing, she looked stunning in the pinkish 
silk thing she wore, and there was 
something of the taxicab mood in her 
face ; that attitude which declared she 
wasn't a bit afraid of me when she 
got me alone. 

" I want to apologize for not keep- 
ing this morning's engagement," she 
said. " Mr. Campbell thought we'd 
better postpone it for a day or so." 

" Oh ! That was it ? And you put 
me off simply to please Campbell ? " 

" I didn't !'" 

" Seems very much like it," I per- 
sisted deliberately, remembering with 
a twinge what Campbell had said. 

She studied me qucerly for a little 
while, as if she were trying to under- 
stand exactly what I meant. 

"Does it matter?" she asked, and 
her eyes grew softer than I had ever 
seen them. 

" Well, isn't it usual to consult the 
man you are going to marry first? " 

"Yes — I suppose it is. But Mr. 
Campbell thought—" 

J relinquished her hands and she 
stopped abruptly, looking very much 
surprised ; but she did not move away, 
and I, scrutinizing the pattern of the 
carpet, said : 



806 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" And what Mr. Campbell thinks is 
more important than what I think. 
How did you know I should like to be 
put oft"? You're going to marry me, 
you know — not him." 

Margaret's face was a study. 

" You're angry? " 

" Not a bit." 

" You are." 
I simply want to be understood, 
that's all." 

" But I don't understand. Yester- 
day you were so different. So splen- 
did! And now you look as if you 
wanted to pick a quarrel." 

" I simply object to having our ar- 
rangements interfered with by out- 
siders. No one else has a right to 
postpone — " 

"You mean Mr. Campbell?" 

" He or any one else. Just as I will 
be prepared to protect you from your 
father, I hope to be able to get mar- 
ried and live happily ever after with- 
out any outside assistance. Judging 
by this apparently unwarranted post- 
ponement, I may expect Campbell to 
hold the reins afterward, too. And, 
here and now. I may as well lodge an 
emphatic objection to that. Campbell 
is all very well in his way. but — " 

" Don't you dare to say anything 
against Mr. Campbell ! " 

She went white in a second. Her 
eyes were burning, and her little hands 
so tightly clenched I could see the 
knuckles shining through. 

I got to my feet before I knew it 
and faced her, wanting to kiss the 
hardness from her little mouth, yet 
tugged back by pride or jealousy or 
pique. 

Very well. We won't discuss the 
gentleman. But I think, before we 
proceed further in our intentions, that 
you had better be sure of whom you 
are marrying and why. I don't want 
to feel that you married me because 
Campbell said to." 

The anger passed out of her eyes 
anil her head dropped. She looked 
down at her hands and fumbled with 
a ring. 



" If he told you not to you wouldn't, 
would you? " 

No answer, and no movement save 
the twirling of the ring. 

a He was the beginning and the end 
of this, wasn't he? You simply obeyed 
orders; thought it was rather roman- 
tic and an easy way out of something 
that would be just a little more hateful 
and that wouldn't let you defy your 
father. Wasn't that it ? " 

Still no answer. 

" I don't think you quite realize 
what you were going to do, and I sup- 
pose I've been a bit of a fool, too, to 
think that it was possible upon so short 
notice. I think we gave that Bob Dol- 
liver - Lady Alice precedent too much 
weight. She didn't run away because 
some one told her .to. She did it be- 
cause she loved the man, and if I didn't 
like you as much as I do I wouldn't — " 

Her head came up slowly. 

Good Heavens ! What eyes ! 

They went through and through me 
— electrified me — made me tingle from 
head to foot. 

" Do you think if — if I didn't — " 

She stopped, and I thought she was 
going to fall. At any rate, I caught 
her as she lurched toward me ; and held 
her, too. 

A sob was smothered in the folds of 
my jacket, and I stood like a sheep, 
feeling like a brute, wondering if it 
would do any good if I kissed her. 

I tilted her face up, and I wonder 
how many men have seen a woman 
look as she did then. 

Try as I will, I can't explain it. 

Only one woman ever seems like 
that to one man. The rest may imi- 
tate — but as Margaret's arms came up 
like those of a tired child and went 
softly about my neck; as her mouth 
formed my name, but did not utter it; 
as I bent my head and felt the warmth 
of her lips. I knew that Campbell was 
a mere incident. 

I felt peculiarly quiet, and for a 
little while we gazed at each other, as 
if it were the only thing in the world 
worth doing. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



807 



Then the color flooded back into her 
cheeks, and her face found refuge on 
my shoulder again. 

] looked over her head toward the 
hangings, and saw the tips of some 
one's lingers disappear. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER. 

My arms grew limp, all the -ardor 
of their embrace dying out of them as 
I stared at the place where the fingers 
had been. I thought I heard the swish 
of skirts as Margaret, startled by my 
sudden lack of enthusiasm, looked up. 

"What's wrong?" she whispered, 
drawing away from me. 

" Nothing." It's all right. Thought 
I heard some one coming, that's all." 

I led her to the chair I had occupied, 
and she perched herself upon the arm 
of it. wonder ingly trying to read the 
riddle ill my expression. 

You look as if you had seen a 
ghost," she told me as I sat down. 
" And you are quite as white as one." 

I put my arms about her. quite sur- 
prised at my temerity, and kissed her 
again and again just to keep her from 
asking questions. Of course that was 
not the only reason. 

Still, I sensed to whom those van- 
ishing fingers had belonged, and had 
no wish to create a rumpus by telling 
Margaret anything about them. Camp- 
bell had likened the maid in the Rollins 
household to a powder-mine; I had no 
desire to make the spark that would 
blow it up. 

Doubtless the peeping maid had seen 
what I looked like, and the situation, 
as she could view it was. to say the 
least, " rich." 

Fortunately. Margaret accepted the 
kisses in full explanation. 

Margaret's eyes were clear and smi- 
ling when I left her. and I felt that 
nothing mattered so long as we two 
understood each other and were con- 
tent. 

But I boarded an up-town tram with 



a sensation that I had put my foot in 
it — the general situation, 1 mean — 
and I prayed that Miss Powder-Mine 
was as careful as she apparently was 
mercenary. It would not pay her to 
tell Ralph of my visit. He would only 
raise the dickens, and she would get 
into trouble with Campbell; but I 
would have much preferred that she 
had not seen me — like that. 

The thing bothered me all the way 
up-town. and when I left the tram I 
walked in a sort of brown study, try- 
ing to imagine the effects my disobe- 
dience to orders might have; and then, 
jumping aside to avoid a little fellow 
on a small tricycle. I saw a familiar 
figure, clothed in something dark and 
clinging, standing on the bottom step 
at the entrance to Delia's apartment. 

She was looking in the opposite di- 
rection toward the Elevated Railway 
station, and. before I had time to de- 
cide whether to be seen or not, she had 
stepped down and was walking away. 

Alice! 

At first I thought that I had made 
a mistake; it seemed preposterous that 
Alice should know anything about 
Delia or the Gobbler, but as I walked 
toward the apartment entrance I real- 
ized that I had stumbled upon one 
more queer twist in an affair that was 
already contorted sufficiently to make 
any one's head buzz. 

I rang Delia's door - bell timidly, 
and the door was jerked open and 
Delia appeared before me in the semi- 
darkness of the hall with a suddenness 
that was truly startling. 

" What ye want? " she rasped at 
me instantly ; and then, recognizing 
me. her voice dropped to a militant 
mumble. " Oh, it's you. is it ? I 
guess I gotta let you in if she says so. 
She's the boss." 

There was a sneer mingled with her 
grumbling, and as I entered, thorough- 
ly bewildered, she closed the door be- 
hind me with a spiteful bang and a 
muttered — " Makes me sick ! " 

" I don't understand,'' I pleaded, 
moving along the hall. 



808 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" You can't kid me. You wuz wait- 
in' down-stairs for Miss Mac to give 
you the woid that it wuz all right — 's 
if it'd make any difT'rence what I 
said." She laughed mockingly. " Jus' 
hang up your kelly an' stick roun' 's 
long as you like. She's runnin' this 
dump." 

It was borne upon me that '* Miss 
Mac " was Alice, though what her re- 
lationship to Campbell was puzzled 
me. Delia, apparently, did not enter- 
tain high regard for her. 

Delia crept after me into the living- 
room. She appeared to hesitate about 
it and I felt rather than heard her fol- 
low. 

Passing the Gobbler's bedroom I 
saw that the nurse had been reengaged, 
evidently overruling Delia's ideas of 
economy, and I supposed that was an- 
other instance of Alice's " bossism.'" 
though how she had ever become con- 
nected with the affair 1^ could only 
diroBy conjecture. 

As Delia trailed me into the parlor, 
which was sandwiched between the 
dining-room and another offshoot in- 
tended for music or a bed, a glance at 
her sulky face told me that there was 
something on her mind of which she 
wanted to be rid. 

" You're one of Mac's real swell 
pals, ain't you?" she demanded sul- 
lenly. 

" I suppose so." 

" What'd he sen' you up here for? " 

" I am not going to remain long. 
Just till this evening." 

She looked me over very carefully. 

" What did Miss Mac tell you about 
the kid ? " 

" Why, nothing." 

" Don't try to make a monkey outa 
me! An' if you've come up here to 
get a line on how I treats the noice to 
give Mac an earful I'll slam you one. 
Get me? " 

Her shoulders drooped to an ugly 
slouch in direct contrast to her chic 
pearl-gray dress. The curl of her up- 
per hp made her almost brutal. 

I made no comment. Evidently she 



had acquired an entirely wrong con- 
ception of the reason for my being 
there, and I did not suppose I could 
disillusion her. 

Suddenly she swung round and 
flung this at me : 

" You think I ain't in Mac's class, 
don' yotl? I'm tough, an' fresh, an' 
ign'rant. Oh, I'm wise. I know what 
I am an' what you an' Miss Mac 
thinks, an' mebbe I ain't got no right 
to hold him to nuthin". But I'm gon- 
na jus' the same." A pause, as she 
caught her breath sharply. " She ain' 
gonna get him ! " 

There was an awkward silence. 

Apparently I had dropped in at a 
moment when Delia's mind ached for 
relief from the struggle to be some- 
thing she knew very well she was not, 
and she seemed to imagine that I 
knew a great deal more about it than 
I did. One thing was certain, " Miss 
Mac " was not supposed to be Camp- 
bell's " sister." so I presumed she 
might be his " cousin." 

" Don't you think you are allowing 
your antipathy to Miss — er — Miss 
Mac to carry you too far? " 

Instantly Delia's slouch became 
more pronounced, and, judging by the 
sudden flashing of her eyes, I wished 
I had not spoken. She studied me in- 
tently for fully a minute. 

" You got a noive," she declared 
finally in a very low voice. " What 
you buttin' in for ? " 

" I'm not. I merelv want you to 
think—" 

"Think! Ain't I been thinkin' for 
mont's and mont's? Ain't I had to 
sit by feelin' like dirt under her shoes, 
lis'nin' to her Fit" Avenoo chatter, 
knowin' he wuz daffy abou' it, an' get- 
tin' Hail Columbia fr'm him cos I 
couln' get on to being a lady? W'en 
he foist came nosin' roun' the kitchen 
I thought he wuz a god or somethin', 
an' w'en he saved Beans from the 
chair—" 

"The chair! You mean — " 
" fSure. Beans didn' have nuthin' 
to doin' with it, but they'd ha' put him 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



809 



away if Mac hadn' ha' butted in wit' 
the coin lor a cracker jack lawyer what 
proved a alibi. Crabbe an' Paler an' 
Gregg an" the whole gang's been 
helped Out the same way — " 

1 nodded, with a clearer understand- 
ing of the Rob Roy gang's beginnings. 

I did not speak, thinking it better 
to allow her to get the venom out of 
her system in her own way. Some 
one moving about in the hall entered 
one of the bedrooms, and when a door 
closed. Delia eyed me militanlly and 
asked, as if she were daring me to 
deny it. 

" She's crazy about him, ain't she?" 
" You mean Miss Mac?'' 
" Sure! " 

" Why no, I don't think so." 

"A\v— tell it to Sweeney. Her? 
She's daffy aboil' him! An' she 
makes a bluff about wantin' the Gob- 
bler to get all that's comin' to him. 
•w'en she'd put dope in his milk if 
she'd get away with it. Why. say! 
That night in Passaic, we'n my sister 
died, she argued with Mac to beat the 
ban' about him bavin' -no right to keep 
his woid to Nessie 'bout lookin" out 
for the Gobbler an* keepin' him fr'm 
being brung up in the kitchen. 

" She said me or the kid's dad wuz 
his nacherail guardian, an' that the 
lawr didn't give Mac no right to take 
him away fr'm us. But w*en Mac 
shut his face tight an' says he had a 
dooty to get by wit", lawr or no lawr, 
she closed up like a clam an' didn't say 
another woid. 

" But starch ain't whiter'n she wuz 
w*en Mac come acrost to me an' ast 
me to help him give the kid a chanst." 

She had made that night at Passaic 
painfully clear, and I could under- 
stand that Campbell's position had 
been peculiar. 

He had been unable to bring Rol- 
lins's duty and rights as parent upon 
the situation, because that meant re- 
vealing his identity and endangering 
the life of Margaret*s father. Nor 
could he break his promise to the 
child's mother without casting Mar- 



garet's half-brother forever into 
Heaven knows what! 

Alice had plainly shown that she 
had been less eager to protect her 
uncle's worthless hide. ' I was quite 
sure, when she pointed out who the 
child's natural guardians were, that 
she did not intend Campbell to think 
that she meant that Delia was the least 
of two evils. 

And he. quixotic idiot that he was, 
taking up Rollins's burden and keep- 
ing his promise to protect the baby 
from its mother's hereditary environ- 
ment, had set his face toward the mid- 
dle course, and proposed the ridicu- 
lous union with Delia as the simplest 
way out. 

" You gonna be roun' to-night?" 

The query startled me from a rev- 
erie in which a thought had come to 
me. 

" Yes; till nine-thirty.'' 

" Pll give you them sparks Jimmy's 
sendin' over 'fore you leave. I gotta 
a lady frien' comin' to see me roun' 
nine. She's grabbed a swell feller 
somewhere's an' wants to give him an 
airin' an' show me up." A short, 
forced laugh mocked the assertion. " I 
guess I don' needa lose any sleep abou' 
that.*' 

She walked slowly away from me 
toward the portieres, in every line and 
movement what heredity had made 
her. The flapping of the hangings be- 
hind her was no more listless than she. 

It was plain that her passion for 
Mac did not give her any false ideas 
about the future with him. 

1 went to a restaurant for lunch, 
and when 1 returned learned from the 
nurse that Miss Borrowman had gone 
out. 

Taking a peep at the Gobbler, I saw 
that he was dull-eyed and listless, and 
mentioning the fact to the nurse, was 
informed that he had been "nearly 
poisoned with sour milk" — that he 
was a little better, and that all Miss 
Borrowman knew about the care of 
babies was to pet them and give them 
paregoric when they cried. 



810 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



I also learned that " Miss MacGre- 
gor " had reengaged her and told her 
she must not leave again, no matter 
what Miss Borrowman said ; and that 
the maid had threatened to leave be- 
cause the nurse had blamed her for 
feeding the child bad milk. 

All of which, doubtless, was the 
cause of the rumpus and of Delia's 
Spitfire mood oil my arrival. 

That afternoon plodded -on toward 
evening, keeping me in a continual 
state of unrest, wondering what 
Campbell wanted with me at the musty 

th Street house. I did not 

care for the arrangement at all, pictur- 
ing as I did dark shapes of men lurk- 
ing about outside, dim lights inside, 
and people going about on tiptoe, 
speaking in whispers, with somewhere 
up-stair's Rollins probably bound and 
gagged, waiting for whatever Camp- 
bell's ingenious mind had in store lor 
him. 

Delia returned sometime before 
dark and gave me as wide a berth as 
the place would allow. 

Getting back from the luxury of a 
shave and a leisurely dinner about a 
quarter of nine, the maid let me in, 
and I ambled through to the parlor, to 
waste half an hour or so. guessing by 
the light in Delia's room that she was 
dressing to receive her visitors. 

I hoped she would not drag me into 
the reception, and bethought me of the 
room adjoining the parlor as a means 
of escape, if my hostess did not ap- 
pear and give me Margaret's trinkets 
beforehand. 

Presently, as I trifled with a stray 
volume of Browning, a door opened 
and closed, and I heard the rustle of 
silken skirts come along the hall and 
through the dining-room. 

A small hand threw back the por- 
tieres and Delia appeared. 

Delia — but different. I stared at her 
in amazement. 

Framed in the deep red hangings, 
clothed in a semidecolletee gown that 
clung to her supple young figure, glit- 
tering fires flashed from out of her 



wonderful hair, about her throat, her 
wrists and her fingers. 

She was wearing Margaret's jew- 
elry ! 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

BORROWED PLUMES. 

I started to my feet, partly in as- 
tonishment, but greatly in admiration. 

There was still a hint of contempt in 
her deep-blue eyes. 

" Some class to this rig? '' 

" Good Heavens! You mustn't wear 
those — those things ! " 

" Aw — g-wan ! " 

She came from between the portieres 
and rustled toward the center of the 
room, moving with perfect ease and 
grace. 

" Vou can bet your life I'm gonna 
wear 'em. Fanny ain' gonna put nuth- 
in' acrost on me wit' them sparks lyin' 
roun' loose." 

She turned about and looked over 
her shoulder to get the back view in 
the long panel mirror. 

" Fits close, don' it? Guess if I kep' 
my face shut you wouldir know me 
fr'm a reg'lar Fif Avenoo dame. 
Fanny's on'y comin' in for a minit. jus' 
to let me lamp her new beau 'fore him 
an' her goes joy-ridin' somewheres, so 
you needn' worry. You'll get the 
sparks in time "nough." 

Realizing the futility of objection, 
and since I could not take the jewels 
without personal violence. I sat down 
again, watching the iridescent flashes 
come out of her jet-black hair. 

There was a diamond-studded brace- 
let and one of plain gold upon her right 
wrist. L'pon her left was an odd 
chainlike affair with a diamond-set 
clasp. The necklace set her throat on 
fire ; a brooch, like a star, twinkled 
upon her left shoulder, and her fingers 
sparkled with the assistance of ' several 
rings. 

As she moved toward a chair, ap- 
parently quite satisfied that her friend 
Fanny would receive the proper sort 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



811 



of shock, the door-bell rang rather 
more loudly than was necessary. 

Delia wheeled toward the portieres 
with the injunction : 

" Sit tight. Nobody ain' gonna bite 
you." 

Some one — the maid, I presumed — 
answered the ring, and the outer door 
opened and closed. Footsteps and 
voices sounded in the hall, and Delia 
went to meet them through the dining- 
room. 

" Hello, Fanny." I heard her call 
presently — "come right in! I gotta 
frien' o' Mac's here, but he's harmless." 

An empty laugh answered, and then : 

"Gee! Ain't you swell? You look 
like Stiffanv's on p'rade. Meet my 
frien' Mr. Brown. Mr. Brown — Miss 
Borrowman." 

" Pleased to meet you." Delia ac- 
knowledged, and Mr. Brown mumbled 
something in reply. 

Followed a strange silence. 

The portieres shut it out. and I sat 
for fully a minute, waiting and wonder- 
ing what the dickens was wrong. 

" Come right in." Delia insisted 
again, and her voice had become sud- 
denly subdued. " You got plen'y 
time." 

" I guess we'd better be on our way." 
Fanny protested just as Delia threw 
back the hangings, revealing a rather 
striking blond, who was eying her 
hostess suspiciously. " Me an' my 
frien 's got a date up the river an' — 
my Gawd ! " 

Fanny's exclamation died away in a 
whisper. 

Her rouged lips parted foolishly, 
and her eyes spoke more eloquently 
than her tongue. 

She gaped at me as if I were a ghost. 

And I gaped back at her and over 
her shoulder at her " swell feller." 

He was Ralph Van Huysen ! 

Instantly I felt icy cold, then unpleas- 
antly warm, and immediately cold 
again. 

Ralph, hat in hand, looked stupid, 
and for a moment I thought he was 
going to turn and run. What little color 



he had died out of his cheeks. His jaw 
sagged, and he shrank behind Fanny 
as if he thought she ought to protect 
him. 

Margaret's maid — and 1 had no 
doubt upon the question of Fanny's 
identity — seemed undecided about 
what course to take: whether to stand 
or fly; and Delia, with Margaret's 
jewels screaming out all over her, 
looked from one to the other of us. 

It was an impossible situation. 

Ralph was afraid of me because I 
knew of his engagement to Margaret, 
and I was afraid of him because of 
the jewelry Delia wore and what Fanny 
had seen that morning when I had dis- 
obeyed Campbell's orders and called on 
Margaret before coming up to Delia's. 

Fanny was the enigma — the powder- 
mine. I could not imagine what she 
thought or would be likely to do. 

"What's hit ye?" Delia demanded 
in bewilderment. 

" Nuthin'. dearie." Fanny replied 
weakly, but drew nearer to her hostess, 
with her attention fixed upon the tiara 
in Delia's hair. " You jus' dazzled us, 
that's all. Them sparks — " 

Her voice trailed away, and her eyes, 
narrowing to pin-points, shifted to the 
necklace, then with lightninglike swift- 
ness to the odd chain bracelet with the 
diamond-set clasp on Delia's left wrist. 

" Gee ! " she breathed, and her gaze, 
swinging slowly and heavily upon me, 
remained. 

" You— you— " 

Perhaps the rush of circumstantial 
evidence choked the rest of it, and for 
a moment I thought she was going to 
spring at me. Her eyes said quite 
plainly what she meant. 

They seemed to draw the cold beads 
of perspiration out upon my forehead 
and make my knees shake as I slid into 
my chair, to avoid the accusation and 
the knowledge in her face, and glanced 
quickly past her toward Ralph. 

He did not move or speak, but he 
was studying Delia in an oxlike fash- 
ion. "Queer!" I heard him mutter. 

" Say ! What's the matter wit' 



812 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



youse?" Delia demanded coarsely. 
" You're lookin' at me's ifi — 's if I 
hadn't nuthin' on." 

Her hands went up instinctively to 
hide her throat, while the color 
flooded into her cheeks. 

Ralph got a better view of the brace- 
lets. I could see at once that they 
startled him more than the other 
things. His eyes widened in unbelief, 
and he moved an impulsive step to- 
ward Delia and stopped. 

" What the devil ! " he cried hoarse- 
ly, and the rest of what he was going 
to say died in an incoherent mumble 
as Fanny slowly turned her head. 

" Don' get mad." she cautioned. 
" That won' do no goad." 

"Hang it all!" Ralph sputtered. 
" Aren't they Margaret's? " 

" I guess so." Fanny interrupted 
with terrible precision. 

" What's took youse?" Delia broke 
in sharply, lowering her hands from 
her throat, her face now cloudy and 
threatening. " You seen Mac's frien' 
before, or what ? " 

" I guess I have somewheres." Fan- 
ny replied, her upper lips curling. " An' 
more'n that. too. He's rotten, he is. 
Makin' love to a sweet goil an' pinchin' 
her sparks to hand 'em out to — to — " 

She did not finish it. but a bomb 
bursting over Delia's head could not 
have startled her more, and her ex- 
pression would have been comical but 
for the lurking antagonism in it. She 
turned to me for an explanation. 

" What's she mean ? " 

" Sure. Ask him." Fanny taunted. 
" Ask Mac's frien". Why, say. when 
Mac hears o' this he'll throw you lx>th 
out on your heads. I didn't think you 
was like that. Delia, an' after all Mac 
done for you. too." 

Delia's mouth opened, but behind 
that momentary stupidity there rushed 
a storm of passionate and savage re- 
sentment, whipped forward by the pity 
in Fanny's tone and expression. 

" What — what you tryin' to — to — 
insinuate? " 

" Nothin', dearie; jus' advisin' you 



not to get too gay with pinched sparks, 
that's all. My frien' don' wanna start 
a muss if there ain't no occasion." 

"Your frien'! That little shrimp? 
I thought you wuz past cradle snatch- 
ing! " 

Fanny bit her lip, and, as far as her 
rouge would allow, went quite white. 

"What the deuce is this?" Ralph 
broke in, and with lightninglike change 
of mood swung angrily upon his com- 
panion. " A trick you've played on 
me? Bringing me here to be made a 
fool of? What's Mason doing here 
and — and those jewels?" 

"Don't scrap in here." Delia inter-' 
rupted. her mouth ugly in a sneer. 
" I didn' think gen'lemen talked like 
that to a lady. Guess your fellow ain' 
so swell as you cracked him up to be, 
Fanny. - ' 

" Shut up! " Fanny snapped, wheel- 
ing furiously upon her hostess. " You 
think because you got your hooks on 
Mac that you are somethin'. Do you 
know why he promised to marry you? 
I fe was sore — that's why — because 
Miss Alice wouldn't agree with him 
when he spilled that chatter about the 
nachural guardian hookin' up with the 
appointed guardian, so's the Gobbler'd 
get wot was comin' to him. He was 
lookin' at her like a guy with a tooth- 
ache, hopin' she'd kick. She called his 
bluff, though, and now he's making 
good, and that's why you're here with 
stolen sparks and her old clothes. You 
don't figure in the game — really." 

With her head drawn down between 
her shoulders Delia did not stir. I saw 
her wince as the lashes of truth wound 
bitingly round her quivering heart. 

Some one moved in the hall, stopped, 
and did not go away. 

Ralph stood dazed, shifting his at- 
tention from Fanny to Delia, while I 
sat in a stupefied lethargy, perspiring 
at every pore, yet feeling a chill creep 
over me as Fanny swung upon me. 

" Why don' you say somethin', you 
boob?" she demanded, her bosom 
heaving with resentment at being at- 
tacked by both Ralph - and Delia. 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



813 



" You're a peach of a frien' of Mac's, 
you are, pinchin' a sweet goil's joolry 
to hand 'em out to a low-down little — "' 

A smothered sob and a sound that 
was half a screech, half a curse, hurst 
from Delia's lips as she sprang. 

1 saw the glittering' myriad of lights 
dancing out of her inky-black hair — 
saw her rage-distorted face — then 
Ralph spring between her and her 
prey. 

Fanny screamed and clutched at his 
shoulder, but he succeeded in grabbing 
Delia's wrists and held her off. though 
she struggled like a wildcat. 

" Lemme go ! " she gasped hoarsely, 
wrenching her right arm free and doing 
her best to scratch Ralph's eyes out. 

But Ralph held on, even when I 
caught Delia's arms from behind, and 
tried to calm her and draw her away. 

He was studying the chain bracelet. 

He found and sprang the clasp, and. 
slipping the bracelet from her arm, 
jumped backward. Delia struggled 
and writhed in my grasp with fiendish 
energy, drawing sobbing breaths of a 
fury that was dangerous. 

"I thought so!" Ralph exclaimed, 
wheeling upon Fanny. " 1 gave this 
bracelet to Miss Rollins last year. Our 
initials are on it. I suppose all the other 
stuff that little fiend is wearing is Mar- 
garet's, too."' 

Delia's struggles ceased with surpri- 
sing suddenness. 

Fanny laid her hand upon Ralph's 
arm as if to smooth his temper. 

"Don' get mad. She'll give 'em up 
and—" 

" Go to the deuce! " Ralph snapped, 
jerking his arm free. " You and your 
confounded friends! A crowd of 
thieves, that's what! I wouldn't be 
surprised if you helped take the things. 

" And what's all that talk about 
Alice? What Alice? Hang it all! 
You don't mean to say that my sister 
is mixed up in anything like this? 
Confound you! I've a good mind! 
to — " 

An unpleasant laugh from Fanny 
halted him. Her eyes burned and 



there was a dangerous set to the thin 
red lines of her lips. 

"I'm a thief — eh?" Her voice 
was threateningly low. '* You have 
the nerve to say that. If I was as low 
as you are I'd take arsenic. I guess 
you thought you were foolin' me — • 
didn' you? You'd marry me!" 

Another unpleasant laugh made 
Ralph wince and back away a step. 

"Sure you'd marry me! Oh, sure 
you w ould — not ! You'd hand me the 
same deal as your uncle — Rollins — 
handed Nessie Borrowman. You an' 
him are a pair. You're both rotten. 
But he's gettin' his an' I've played 
you for the dog you are, and now I'm 
through! Get that? Through!" 

Ralph was white and trembling, as 
Fanny sneered at him and ran her eyes 
over him with all the contempt in the 
world. 

But I only saw that dimly out of 
the corner of my eye as I watched 
Delia get slowly out of her chair. She 
had not missed a word. 

" Rollins!"' It was hardly a whis- 
per. '' Rollins ruined my sister! An' 
you knew ! " 

Their eyes met, and for a second 
or two there was fear of what she had 
done in Fanny's. Delia's glowed and 
her arms were quite rigid. The fat 
was in the fire w ith a vengeance. 

" Rollins!" Delia repeated hoarsely. 
" The guy that Mac — " 

Her head came round slowly, and I 
flinched before the look she gave me. 

She did not continue; there was no 
need. She knew that the man who 
had accompanied me to the Clacban 
was named Rollins, and, summing up 
the case against me, reminded me si- 
lently of the promise I had made her 
the night she and 1 had met. and of 
how I had kept it. 

The silence was broken by a child's 
cry. 

In a moment the tiara flashed 
through space to my feet, and as I 
stooped to pick it up a bracelet struck 
my band. The rest followed ere any 
of us had a chance to get our breath, 



814 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



and when the brooch struck me a little 
under the left eye I hoped there wasn't 
any more. 

There was a rush of rustling skirts. 

I straightened and turned about 
with a hazy conception of Ralph being 
very near to me, Delia rushing through 
the dining-room, and Fanny, suddenly 
timid and anxious, following her. 

Some one in the hall moved hastily 
and a door closed. Delia did not seem 
to heed. I heard her rushing to the 
other end of the hall; another door 
slammed and the Gobbler wailed 
louder and longer. 

Ralph was very pale and shaking 
with anger and excitement ; his hands 
were clenched. 

Mine were filled with rings and 
bracelets and the brooch. The tiara 
and necklace were in ray pockets. 

"Give me those things!" he de- 
manded. 

" Are they yours? " 

" They belong to my cousin." 
I'll see that your cousin gets 
them." 

" You — you — I Tang you ! " 

He lunged at me. and. with my 
hands rilled as they were. 1 could only 
throw up my arms to ward him off and 
side-step. 

1 backed into a small table — upset- 
it. A vase crashed to the floor and I 
went with it. when Ralph, crazy as a 
Malay and swearing between his teeth, 
plunged at me. catching me off my 
balance with a terrific swing over the 
left eye. 

My head was swimming and the 
electric chandelier whirling round; 
and something hard and sharp came 
up from behind, and the lights grew 
dim. 

In an instant a weight pressed upon 
my chest, and when I struggled feebly 
to rise the weight grew heavier. There 
was nothing distinct. 

Millions of miles above me I saw a 
faint light, and from far off came a 
child's cry. 

A long time afterward the weight 
upon my chest lifted, and some one 



flung something wet in my face, 
grabbed my arm. and, pulling me to 
my feet, held me there till the mists 
before my eyes faded, and I saw that 
she was Fanny. 

" Are you a friend o' Mac's ? " 

I nodded. 

"Do vou know where Rollins is?" 
"I think so." 

" Then for Heaven's sake wake up * 
an' get a move on. or there'll be mur- 
der this night ! Delia's gone for Beans 
Borrowman." 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

NUMBER 314. 

Tin-: next few minutes are very 
hazy. 

** Gone for Beans Borrowman ! " 

That threat roused me as nothing 
else could have done ; made my bruised 
eye, the growing lump on the back of 
my head, and the fact that Ralph had 
taken advantage of his opportunity to 
flee with the jewelry matters of sec- 
ondary im]K>rtanee. 

It all lay somewhere behind the 
shadow that Beans and his revenge 
cast across the pathway of events. 

I could see the Rob Roy gang torn 
asunder, the blot of murder upon its 
escutcheon, its members scattered and 
fleeing from the clutching fingers of 
the law. Its leader — 

1 rushed to the telephone and stood 
upon a red-hot griddle while the oper- 
ator took centuries to get me the 
number I wanted. A gruff voice an- 
swered my query. 

" Mac ain't got here yet." 

" Hasn't got there ! " 

" Naw ! Ring off." 

Then, because there was nothing 
else to do, and because inactivity was 
the one thing I simply could not stand, 
I got into my hat and coat and out of 
the apartment to find a taxicab to take 
me to the th Street house. 

I don't know what Fanny did or 
where she went or anything about her. 
As I went out I had a dim vision of 



I 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



815 



the nurse and the maid hovering about 
the hall. 

Delia had about ten minutes' start, 
and before 1 had found a taxi she had 
been given ten more. But I knew she 
had to find Beans, while I was travel- 
ing directly to the rendezvous; that 
was the only comfort I had, as the 
cab, doing its best to earn the bribe I 
offered, pounded on down-town. 

Seated alone, with nothing to do but 
watch the lights flash past, I had time 
to paint pictures that were hideous, 
revolting, and terrible. 

The end was inevitable. I felt it in 
my bones, even though I might pre- 
vent the coming of the crisis that 
night, and I shivered when I thought 
I might be too late. 

I could not imagine, even though I 
did arrive in time to warn Campbell 
of his danger, how he was going to 
get Rollins safely out of the house if 
it were being watched by Parks's men. 
Yet moved he must be or else the 
blood-seeking Beans would kill him. 

Stopping the taxi a square away 
from the house. I hastened down 
Ninth Avenue feeling anything but 
brave. 

At th Street I hesitated for a 

minute, searching the shadows, fear- 
ful of the avenger's approach; then, 
with an effort, turned and went swift- 
ly toward Eighth Avenue. 

The lamps were not very bright; 
the atmosphere was heavy and sinister. 

Yet the place was not so somnolent, 
after all. 

I heard a piano, and some one who 
could not play the cornet was demon- 
strating the fact. 

Young people flirted upon the bot- 
tom steps of the houses ; matrons gos- 
siped under a lamp across the street, 
and a lady in a kimono, leaning out of 
a first - floor window, held frivolous 
conversation with a man anxious, late 
as it was. that she occupy the vacant 
seat in the little red car drawn up at 
the carriage-step. 

There were two taxicabs further up 
the street, near Campbell's place. I 



walked tremblingly toward them, with 
my eyes about me, and I concluded 
that some sort of merrymaking was 
going on in the house before which 
they stood. 

Every room in the place, from the 
basement to the roof, was ablaze, and 
a few curious people stood on the side- 
walk, apparently waiting for some- 
thing to happen. 

The house next it, in grim contrast, 
was devoid of light and life. I felt 
ashamed and afraid of my connection 
with it ; I dreaded to pass the welcome, 
homelike place — so fearlessly bespeak- 
ing its law-abidingness — to dive like 
a felon into the shadow of Campbell's 
basement. 

I hoped the bright lights were not 
just next door, and I peered at the 
numbers of the houses I was passing 
to learn just how far I had to go. 

" Xo. 318 " — the next was not very 
distinct — but I could trace a six in the 
one after and presumed it was 316. 

I stopped there. 

No. 314 was Campbell's number, 
and that was the house with the lights! 

The number, painted slantwise upon 
the glass panels of the door, glared 
at me. 

Great guns ! A detective standing 
at the Eighth Avenue corner, half a 
square away, could easily have picked 
me out of that glare, particularly if I 
attempted to climb the stairs to the 
main door. 

I could not imagine any one impris- 
oned there, and as I hesitated, trying 
to believe that I had not got the num- 
bers mixed, it occurred to me that Rol- 
lins had gone. 

A wave of relief swept over me, 
and, remembering how different the 
Clachan had been on my second visit, 
I plunged into the basement. 

A light foot sounded within, answer- 
ing my ring at the door - bell. The 
door swung open and in the semidark- 
ness I saw a white shirt-front glisten, 
then indistinctly the face of a man 
with a small black mustache. 

" Well ? " 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



816 

" Is this Cam — MacGregor's place?" 
"It is. What ya want? " 
" I'm Mason. I have an appoint- 
ment — " 

" I guess not. Try the door up- 
stairs." 

" Don't be an idiot ! Is MacGreg- 
or here yet ? " 

Heavy feet were coming along the 
hall and a woman's strident voice 
called : 

"What's the trouble, Billy?" 

" There's a party here — " 

A mass of straw-colored hair and 
the ample proportions of Rosie Paler 
pounded into view. 

" Gee ! Bloudy ! " 

Then in a moment my hopes raced 
to the skies and I knew that I was first 
in the race for Rollins's life. 

As I hurriedly stepped inside she 
whispered : 

" It's all right, Billy. Beat it." 

Billy mumbled to himself and reluc- 
tantly departed. Rosie grabbed my 
arm and led me along the hall and past 
the dining-room, but not before I 
caught a gilimpse of a table with a 
snowy-white cloth, much silver and 
glassware, and flowers as if for a 
feast. 

" Where you been?" Rosie whis- 
pered. *' It's fifteen after ten." 
"Is it?" 

" Sure it is. If it weren' that Miss 
Mac wuz late. too. you'd be in Dutch. 
An' what'd ye come in the basement 
way for? You ain't groceries. Beat 
it — here's the stairs." 

Gently but firmly she pushed me 
ahead, and I climbed the narrow flight, 
wondering what new insanity Camp- 
bell was practising. Reaching the 
top I looked round the baluster and 
along the fully lighted hall to the front 
door. There wasn't a soul in sight, 
but some one with a deep voice was 
talking in the parlor. 

"He's in there, isn't he?" 

"Sure. Go right in. He'll be glad 
to see ya." Then, looking into my 
bruised face in the better light: " Gee! 
What a shiner ! " 



Clapping her hands over her mouth 
to smother her laughter, she thrust 
me toward the parlor portieres with 
the other. 

I threw the hangings aside, took 
one step into the room, and — 

Alice Van Huysen was there ; 
Campbell was not. 

He of the sonorous voice was a 
clergyman ! 

My good eye blinked. The other 
could not because it was«almost closed. 
Alice started to her feet, but the min- 
ister regarded me with careful disap- 
proval. 

Outside I heard Rosie Paler ma- 
king great haste toward the stairs, 
(laughing; and as she went up another 
flight, two or 'three steps at a time, I 
had a suspicion regarding the where- 
abouts of Campbell. 

Somehow or other I could not say 
anything or think for a minute or so. 
I must have looked stupid and wild. 
I know I felt much worse than that. 

"What's wrong?" Alice cried. 
" You look as if — as if — well, can't 
you see how you look ? " 

Since I was facing the mantel mir- 
ror I could see quite plainly, and the 
sight was not. a pretty one. 

My left eye, as I have said, was all- 
most closed — puffed up and greenish 
blue. My mustache was scattered to 
the four winds of heaven, and my hat, 
because of the throbbing lump at the 
back of my head, was tilted sidewise, 
giving me a truly giddy appearance. 

I removed it, conscious for the first 
time of my wretched manners, and 
discovered that my hair was disrepu- 
tably tousled. 

Both Alice and the minister studied 
me queerly in silence ; the former 
threatening to smile, the latter with a 
measure of embarrassment. I opened 
my mouth to say something apologetic, 
heard a footstep on the stairs, and 
wheeled without a word and went back 
into the hall. 

Ere I had gone three steps I halted 
as if some one had caught my coat- 
tail and pulled me back on my heels. 



A THIEVES 

Campbell, in a quiet, brown busi- 
ness suit, was descending the stairs. 
With him was Margaret. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE CLANSMAN. 

For a little while I could hardly be- 
lieve that they were real. 

Graduailly I saw that Margaret 
wore something blue with a splash of 
gray in it. Her hand lay lightly upon 
Campbell's arm, and while she ap- 
peared to cling to him. she did not 
seem nearly so much put out as I. 

Rosie Paler followed, trying to look 
very solemn. 

" Hello, Didderington ! Found a 
job yet? " 

Campbell's deep tones of greeting 
laughed at me, though his expression 
was as solemn as an owl's. Then he 
and Margaret both seemed to under- 
stand that there was something 
wrong; and at closer quarters they saw 
my left eye and dishevelment. 

Margaret's hand slipped from her 
escort's arm. 

" W hat on earth have you been do- 
ing?'' Campbell demanded, midway 
between laughter and amazement. "In 
a taxi wreck ? " 

" Not quite. They know." 

I tried to make my single eye say 
the rest of it, but Campbell did not 
seem to understand. 

"They know? Who knows? And 
what ? " 

" Beans." 

To Margaret it must have sounded 
idiotic, and her expression of doubt 
was almost funny. Campbell's eyes 
widened a little, but that was all. 

" You mean they know — " 

"Who Smith is and' where to find 
him." 

Campbell smiled. 

1 never saw any one smile just like 
that. It was cruel, but the relief in it 
was the most surprising thing of all. 
In fact, I hardly believed "he quite ap- 
preciated just how serious it was. 

7 S " 



COMEDY. 817 - 

" Bu — but Delia — she's gone for 
him — man, to bring him here! They 
know he's here, don't they?" 

Margaret's face underwent a hun- 
dred changes of expression in a min- 
ute. She hadn't the faintest idea of 
what we were talking about. Camp- 
bell's lips merely tightened over that 
enigmatical smile, and, half turning 
about, said quietly to Rosie : 

" Tell Bilh' not to let any one in 
until after the minister is gone. No 
one at all — not even the Borrowmans. 
Understand? " 

"Yes, sir." 

" After he leaves it doesn't matter. 
Tell Billv that." 

" i win." 

Rosie rushed toward the basement 
stairway. 

" Come on," Campbell invited me, 
without winking an eyelash. " ' Just 
as you are, without one plea.' Your 
time has come." 

The succeeding minutes — I don't 
know how many there were — ought 
to be chronicled by some one else. 

I know very little about them. 

Faintly do I recollect standing with 
Margaret facing the minister, mum- 
bling responses and hearing my bride 
whisper hers. I did not see her half 
the time, because she stood on my left 
side, and the whole business was just 
as hazy as the things I could see out 
of my left eye. 

Alice and Campbell and Rosie were 
somewhere about, and I found the ring 
in my hand at the proper time without 
knowing how it came there. 

Then, after I had kissed Margaret 
for the first time in public, I knew that 
we were married. The minister said 
so, and gave us a certificate to prove it. 
after everybody but Rosie had signed 
their names. 

Rosie, I belwve, was very much sur- 
prised and a little awed when she 
learned, in the course of the ceremony, 
that I 'Was an earl ; and when it was all 
over I heard her mutter : 

"Gee! An' I kissed—" She 



818 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



stopped, colored, and backed away, 
probably remembering that my wife 
was about. 
Wife! 

I could scarcely believe it, not even 
when Campbell's hand came out of the 
mist and seized mine. He looked me 
in the eye, smiled, and growled from 
the depths of him : 

" Take good care of her. I think 
you are both worth it." 

Then, as Alice offered her congratu- 
lations, Campbell wrote a check for the 
minister, who, looking askance at me, 
blessed the whole shooting match and 
said he was sorry he could not wait. 
The women departed up-stairs shortly 
after he had gone, and hardly had the 
hangings fallen behind them ere Camp- 
bell wheeled with amazing rapidity 
toward the sliding doors that shut out 
the back parlor. 

In an instant they were thrown back. 

I stared, wide-eyed, past Campbell's 
arm, motionless, gasping for breath. 
Then I laughed. I could not help it. 

One gas-jet burned low, and seated 
directly under it were three men. 

Crabbe was one. Paler the other. 

Their solitary eyes gleamed upon the 
third, and in their right hands each 
carried a glistening weapon. 

In the center was Rollins — gray 
with fear and shivering — in kilts! 

He was in full Highland costume, 
even to the eairngorm-hil/ed dirk in 
his sock. A silver-mounted cairngorm 
thistle-brooch held his flowing plaid in 
place, and a glengarry was perched at 
an approved angle upon his head. 

The glaring yellow and red of the 
alien tartan seemed to spread all over 
him ; everywhere but over the naked 
whiteness of his knees, which knocked 
together in his terror. 

I never saw a man more ludicrous or 
so unhappy, He was a study in misery. 

Paler and Crabbe did not smile. 
Their expressions were deadly unemo- 
tional. 

" Our friend is now a full-fledged 
clansman,'" Campbell advised non- 
chalantly, gripping the edge of the 



sliding doors in an idle fashion. " He 
is armed to the teeth and 'ready to kill. 
That's what the red in the tartan 
means. The yellow speaks for itself, 
and suggests why we prefer his room 
to his company. 

" W hen we are ready his guardians 
shall lead him to the front door, which 
they shall open for him. He will then 
be at perfect liberty to pass out, de- 
scend the steps, and enter a waiting 
taxi." 

Rollins squirmed and found courage 
to glare at me. His tormentors were 
not in the least moved, one way or an- 
other. Their calm was terrible. 

" I believe there are some friends of 
his somewhere outside," Campbell re- 
sumed. " I can't just say where they 
are, but Mr. Parks was at the corner 
as I came in. If our clansman cares 
to walk that far in his present costume 
to solicit aid against us, we will be 
agreeably surprised, as it will prove 
that he has more courage than we be- 
lieved. Then again, as he descends 
the steps, he may be recognized. If 
he is, we shall submit without a 
struggle." 

Rollins appeared to understand per- 
fectly. He did not attempt to speak 
or to object in any way. That sort of 
thing had been entirely knocked out 
of him. All he appeared to care about 
was to get into more comfortable rai- 
ment. 

With an eye upon him and another 
upon the portiered entrance of the par- 
lor, and listening for the ring upon the 
door-bell that would herald Beans's 
arrival, I heard Campbell continue in 
the same easy strain : 

" He has our advice upon his move- 
ments and actions when he leaves here, 
and I would like to add that the man 
who is looking for Smith knows Who 
Smith is, and is coming here presently 
to look for him." 

Rollins started an inch or two out 
of his chair, and his cheeks grew gray. 
He sagged back again and cowered into 
the folds of his plaid. 

" Since silence is generally conceded 



( 

A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



819 



to mean consent," Campbell resumed 
•relentlessly, " it is to be presumed that 
he had no objection to the ceremony 
he heard performed a few minutes 
ago. A parent's consent is always nice 
to have in affairs of that sort. Pater- 
nal generosity is much nicer. So he 
has kindly assigned to his daughter — 
to take effect upon the occasion of her 
marriage to — well — anybody — the 
mortgages he held upon the estates of 
Didderington. 

" The paper was carefully drawn by 
that eminent practitioner of law, Mr. 
Seton Tait, who arranges legal words 
and phrases so that they can't be split 
with an ax. Our guest signed it, feel- 
ing that he — might as well — and stayed 
to be sure that everything was all 
right. Of course, the costume he has 
affected for the occasion made him 
rather backward about making an ap- 
pearance. 

*' And, by the way, Didderington. I 
believe Smith & Nelson, of Broad 
vStreet, have a few dollars for you, 
made on the sale of one thousand 
shares of Rand Island at 225." 

I was dum founded. Even Rollins 
was so startled as to forget his fear 
and again rise a few inches out of his 
chair, and a queer sound, half whine, 
burst from his pallid lips. 

But he slid back again instantly and 
cringed away from the menacing 
touch of his guards' revolvers. 

Campbell eyed him up and down, 
and seemed to be talking just for the 
personal satisfaction of being sure that 
Rollins would understand exactly what 
had happened and how all of his various 
plans had failed. 

"My agents borrowed fifty thou- 
sand shares from the gentleman in San 
Francisco who owned them and gave 
security of five million dollars — or 
double what the stock was worth. 
Since my guest bought the stuff, I can't 
return it, and, of course, forfeit the 
security. But I think that the balance 
of what was realized upon the sale of 
fifty thousand shares at 250 should 
make a certain very young man inde- 



pendent of his guardians, whoever they 
may be." 

Of course. I knew that he meant the 
Gobbler. 

He reached out for the other half 
of the sliding door. Rollins had not a 
word to say; did not make a sound of 
any kind. 

'' When I give the word, boys. Not 
till then." 

Crabbe nodded, and the door slid 
together in a second, shutting out the 
splash of red and yellow, the pallor of 
Rollins's cheeks, and the glint of his 
keepers' weapons. The last glimpse of 
the tableau I had was the rakish tilt 
of the glengarry upon Rollins's head. 

Campbell gripped my arm and, lead- 
ing me toward the parlor entrance, 
said quietly: 

" When you undertook to play the 
market yesterday, I phoned Smith & 
Nelson for you, telling them to sell. 
Thought you might not know when. 
But I imagined I'd like to see if it made 
any difference to Margaret and you. 
Tell me how it all happened — that eye 
and everything. It wasn't Beans 
who — " 

The basement bell rang. 

Ere the sound had died away Camp- 
bell had reached the sliding doors and 
had thrown them back. 

" Quick ! You've just a minute ! " 

Crabbe and Paler started to their 
feet, clutched Rollins's arms, and 
hoisted him out of his chair before he 
had much of a chance to even gasp. 

The basement door closed. 

Taking charge of his prisoner, Camp- 
bell ordered Crabbe and Paler to the 
main stairs. 

" The second they show, cover 
them," he finished ominously, uncere- 
moniously hustling my grotesque and 
shrinking father-in-law across the par- 
lor, out into the hall, and toward the 
outer door. Instantly I saw his plan. 

As Beans and Delia came in from 
below, he was sending Rollins out from 
above. It was better, under the cir- 
cumstances, to let the Borrowmans in 
than keep them out. 



820 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Crabbe and Paler took up their po- 
sitions on the stairway. 

Rollins's knees threatened to give 
way. There was no fight in him, and 
Campbell practically dragged him to 
the door, though the sound of rushing 
feet in the hall below made a chill creep 
down my spine. 

Some one came pounding up the 
basement stairs, and in the second or 
two that I turned my head to see that 
Crabbe and Paler were quite ready for 
the intruders, a lot of red and yellow 
was suddenly pushed out into the 
vestibule. 

The door closed, and Campbell 
stood with his back to it. 

I thought I heard dim sounds of 
laughter come from the street, but I 
may have been mistaken; and, in any 
case, I lost them in a sudden growling 
command from the stairs : 

" Put up your hands ! " 

Beans, rounding the baluster, jerked 
back upon his heels, almost as if a 
bullet from one of the glittering muz- 
zles so near his head had actually hit 
him. 

His dusty face was black as thun- 
der, and his eyes, sweeping about him 
like lightning — at me — at Campbell — 
and up at the men who were so calm 
it seemed to hurt — shrank from the 
command in their hands. 

For just a second he hesitated, then 
his arms I rose slowly to the accom- 
paniment of much unpleasant vitupera- 
tive that isn't worth repeating, and he 
marched in sullen anger at the order 
toward the center of the hall, followed 
by the evil-eyed Crabbe. 

Paler hung back, waiting for Delia; 
and I thought perhaps she had been 
afraid to come up. 

Crabbe, slapping Beans's pockets in 
the most matter-of-fact fashion, ex- 
tracted a murderous-looking revolver. 

" It's all right, Beansy," Crabbe as- 
sured him. " Mac helped you out 
once, an' I'm jus' helpin' him do it 
again. If you wanna croak the guy, 
do it where it won't harm nobody but 
him an' you." 



A dull flush crept over Beans's face 
and forehead. Campbell, with his 
hands in his pockets and showing little 
signs of perturbation, left his post at 
the door and came walking leisurely 
forward. 

Crabbe gave him Beans's revolver, 
which he carefully " broke," and, ex- 
tracting the charges, handed it back to 
its owner just as I caught a suggestion 
of millinery and petticoats at the top 
of the main stairway, and heard, with- 
out a doubt this time, laughter and 
jeers come from the street. 

" Not here," Campbell declared very . 
quietly. " I don't allow — *' 

A muffled roar from without 
drowned the rest of it, and it was fol- 
lowed by a shriek that, in the dark si- 
lences of the nights, I hear again and 
shudder. 

There was another shot, and then 
a third. 

Then a moment of awful quiet that 
chilled. 

Beans smiled. 

In an instant, with his lips drawn 
tightly together and his eyes aflame in 
wrath and amazement mingled, Camp- 
bell wheeled sharply to the door, and, 
choking in horrified expectancy, fear- 
fully glancing toward the stairs, I fol- 
lowed him. 

A screaming riot had risen without. 

I was probably a foot behind Camp- 
bell when he reached the vestibule, but 
I think he jumped the steps to the side- 
walk, as windows flew up and heads 
popped out and heavy feet and three 
heavy men sprang into the limelight 
from opposite directions. 

Midway down the steps I stopped 
and looked down in shrinking horror 
upon a kilted figure lying huddled and 
still beside the open door of a taxicab. 

And there was a wild-eyed, tousled- 
haired girl hysterically screaming at a 
stoop-shouldered, bearded man who 
brandished a smoking revolver. 

" Beat it, dad, for Gawd's sake! " 

But old man Borrowman ignored 
the advice. Instead, he stood frothily 
daring Rollins to get up. 



A. THIEVES' COMEDY. 



821 



Rollins did not get up — did not 
move. 

The yellow and red plaid fluttered a 
little; that was all. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

HIDE AND SEEK. 

Campbell literally jumped upon 
the drunken murderer, sending him 
against the front wheel of the taxi, 
and wrenched the revolver from him 
as if it were no more dangerous than 
the Gohhler's teething-ring. 

Then, almost brutally pushing Delia 
aside, he stooped over Rollins. 

Parks arrived a second later. 

Ere Borrowman recovered his bal- 
ance or had gathered any sort of un- 
derstanding about what had hit him, 
one of the other detectives had seized 
and handcuffed him. The third caught 
Delia from behind: but, seemingly un- 
decided about how to regard her, satis- 
fied himself with simply gripping her 
arms, an attention which, peculiarly 
enough, she made no effort to resist, 
but stood dumbly watching Campbell 
and Parks bend over Rollins. 

A third man joined them; I learned 
later that he was a doctor from across 
the street. 

There were people racing in upon the 
scene from all directions. Two police- 
men forced their way to the center of 
activify, and one of them instantly 
turned about to call an ambulance. 

Alice, dressed to depart, was some- 
where on the steps behind me. Crabbe 
and Paler and Rosie and Beans were 
crowded in the vestibule, and Billy had 
come to the basement door. But the 
vestibule was emptied in a few seconds. 

Rosie came farther down the steps; 
the men went the other way; and as I 
heard them making themselves scarce 
down the basement stairs, I felt a small 
hand creep into mine and, turning my 
head sharply, found Margaret, coated 
and hatted at my elbow. 

In that second, right or Avrong, I 
decided that she must not know that 



the kilted figure on the sidewalk was 
that of her father, and subconsciously 
I put my arm about her and tried to 
lead her back into the house. 

" Let's go inside." 

" Wait," she whispered, and crept 
nearer to me. " Is he dead? " 

As if in reply, the doctor bending 
over Rollins looked up, and Campbell 
and Parks straightened slowly and 
simultaneously. 

They came face to face. 

Parks nodded toward the" thing at 
his feet. 

" In Boston, eh? " 

His voice was quite cold. 

Campbell 'Vignored the insinuation 
completely. „ 

" Mebbe ye'd better tak' — this," he 
suggested broadly, and held out .the 
murderer's revolver. '* You're a plain- 
clathes polisman, aren't ye?" 

Parks snatched the weapon angrily 
out of Campbell's hand, and a choked- 
off scream came f rom behind them. 

Delia was struggling in her captor's 
grasp like a mad thing. 

" You'd • t'row us down ! " she 
'screeched. " You'd t'row us to the 
bulls ! " 

Parks smiled and waited. 

Campbell studied the frantic Delia 
for a few seconds, then turned and 
came leisurely toward the steps. 

Parks made no move to halt him. 
He was regarding the prisoners with 
an eye to their usefulness, just as he 
had done Mrs. Varelli that morning. 

Delia quieted instantly. The rage 
went out of her face as if Campbell's 
look had been a magic wand. 

But her father was a different mat- 
ter. He was partly intoxicated, for 
one thing; and Delia's angry screech 
had evidently awakened his befuddled 
mind to a full understanding of his 
position. 

* T'row us to the bulls ? " he ques- 
tioned thickly, as if he were repeating 
it to know what it meant by the sound 
of it. 

" Shut yer face! " Delia snapped. 
Parks waited a little longer, though 



* 



822 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



it seemed to cause him an effort, and 
Campbell reached the third step of the 
stairs as Borrowman, answering his 
daughter's advice with an oath, raised 
his handcuffed hands and pointed an 
accusing finger at the Gregarach. 

"You done f'r me!" he exploded 
hoarsely, as if it had just occurred to 
him. " You took my gun an' t'rowed 
me down!" More frothy oaths that 
allowed Campbell to reach the fifth 
step. "I'll fix ye! I've got your num- 
ber ! I f they're gonna pull me, they're 
-gonna pull you — Mr. Rob Roy! " 

Campbell had reached the seventh 
step, upon a level with Margaret, Alice, 
and I. 

"Stop!" 

Parks sprang forward, and his right 
hand, bearing Borrowman' s revolver, 
came up sharply. 

With a wild scream, a small female 
figure leaped out of a startled detect- 
ive's grasp and, in a twinkling, fast- 
ened herself upon Parks's right arm, 
while another, who did not scream, but 
whose cheeks were deathly white, 
threw herself between Campbell and 
any bullets that might happen to come 
along. 

" Go, Bob ; go ! " 

The words were lost in the roar of 
the crowd; but I heard a deep laugh, 
and had a vision of an enormous figure 
leaping up the steps and filling the ves- 
tibule for a second. 

" Gude nicht — Mr. Polisman ! " 

And the front door of No. 314 
closed with a bang just as Parks, free 
from Delia's hold, bounded up the 
steps. 

Confusion ! 

Everything happened in a minute. 

There were people everywhere, yell- 
ing and running and getting in the way 
of the detectives and two more police- 
men, who practically fought their way 
into the midst of things. 

Delia, recaptured and handcuffed, 
was turned over to one of them ; the 
other took charge of the frothing Bor- 
rowman, who was screaming to Parks : 

" Grab him, mister! Grab him! " 



Then Parks's two subordinates 
joined him with a rush as he was rat- 
tling the door at a great rate. 

RSsie came farther down the steps, 
grinning. 

Alice, white and anxious, came near 
to Margaret and me, and we stood hud- 
dled together, waiting to see to what 
length Parks would go. We were ig- 
nored almost completely, probably be- 
cause we were mostly ladies, and be- 
cause Parks was after bigger game. 

"Watch the basement!" he thun- 
dered to those below, and the basement 
door clanged. 

No one came out. 

There was a crash of breaking glass 
as Parks smashed the panel of the door 
with the butt of the revolver. 

In another half minute he had 
rushed into the hall, followed by the 
others, all with revolvers drawn, ready 
for unpleasantness. 

Not a sound greeted them — nothing. 

They became very cautious, as if 
they thought Campbell might be hiding 
behind the hat-rack. Then, when they 
had puked their heads into the parlor 
and the room of Rollins's late im- 
prisonment, they scurried about the 
hall, at a loss whether to go up or 
down. 

Parks decided to go down, and took 
a companion along. The other stayed 
to watch the stairs. 

In the face of desperate men, that 
descent of the basement stairway 
would have been nothing short of sui- 
cide, and Parks had every reason to 
believe that he was in the den of clever 
and unscrupulous criminals. 

Down they went, carefully, slowly, 
prepared for anything. 

And all that took time — precious 
minutes that were beyond price to the 
man they were after. 

In the pause that their absence 
created, while I listened for the sound 
of strife, I looked about me; at the 
seething crowd that was growing to 
alarming dimensions; at the grisly 
thing upon the sidewalk,, now covered 
with a white sheet; at Delia, placid 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



823 



once more, and her father, mumbling" 
drunken ly to the policeman who held 
him. 

And near the old murderer, almost 
brushing arms with Delia, was Beans. 

I drew a sharp breath and my good 
eye opened wide. 

How he had come there so swiftly 
was a problem that staggered me, and 
at the same time led me to hope; and 
I almost laughed outright at the 
thought of Parks searching so care- 
fully and cautiously an empty house. 

All at once Alice laid her fingers on 
my arm. 

"You know who that is?" she 
asked, and shot a glance toward the 
shroud beside the taxicab. 

Margaret jerked her head up, and 
catching the wonder in my face, whis- 
pered : 

"Who is it?" 

I gulped once, looked toward Alice 
in some bewilderment, and heard her 
say very quietly : 

" Your father, dear. When the de- 
tectives come back let me explain, and 
don't sav a word." 

" My—" 

Margaret drew away from me slow- 
ly and stared at one glistening shoe- 
buckle that protruded from beneath 
the sheet. She shuddered, and I 
thought she was going to fall, but ere 
my fingers had touched her arm she 
steadied herself and. trembling vio- 
lently, moved slowly down the steps 
just as Parks came pounding up the 
basement stairs alone. 

"Eighth Avenue!" I heard him 
shout to the detective on watch in the 
hall. " There's an alleyway to them 
flats next to Schmidt's saloon. Caff- 
ney just grabbed one of the gang goin' 
over the back wall." 

They came out and down the steps 
like an avalanche, and the crowd 
cheered and broke before the rush 
the}' made toward Eighth Avenue; 
and most of the people followed them, 
yelling all sorts of surmises, with the 
name " Rob Roy " sounding high 
above the din. 



Margaret paused just long enough 
to allow them to pass, then, without a 
word, went down to the sidewalk. 

We followed instantly. 

Alice's action, brutal it seemed to 
me, was puzzling; but the whole busi- 
ness was so queer and tangled, and the 
excitement so intense that I could not 
think out anything that was in the 
least involved. 

The doctor who had first examined 
Rollins leaned against the taxi, wait- 
ing, I supposed, for the arrival of the 
ambulance. A policeman, using his 
night-stick freely, kept the space be- 
fore the house cleared, while his two 
brothers in uniform waited with their 
prisoners and' helped him at the same 
time. 

The moment Ave reached the street 
the policeman holding Delia barked: 

" Where you goin' ? " 

And another equally gruff voice 
from behind and above us called 
harshly : 

" Hold them ! Guess Parks '11 want 
to talk to the English guy." 

Proving that I had not gone unno- 
ticed. 

1 turned my head and saw a detect- 
ive, whom I presumed was Caffney, 
leading Billy down the steps. 

Margaret glanced up into my face 
and gripped my arm almost painfully. 
She was white to the lips and shaking 
as with ague, but she crossed the space 
to her father's side without a second's 
hesitation, taking Alice and me along. 

In an instant there was a policeman 
ready to push us back. 

"' One moment, officer," I objected 
as calmly as I could. " This is his 
daughter." 

"Cut the con, English!" some one 
said roughly behind me, and I wheeled 
instantly with the blood rushing to my 
head. 

" You confounded — " 

" Still as coarse as ever, Caffney?" 
a smooth, quiet voice upon Margaret's 
other side broke in, and the detective's 
jaw dropped. 

He almost released his hold upon 



824 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Billy at the sight of Alice's set face, 
then free from its habitual hint of 
humor. 

" You haven't forgotten me, have 
you? " 

Evidently he hadn't 

Margaret was gazing dully at what 
lay at her feet, and creeping closer to 
me every second. 

" I can't 'look! " she whispered. " I 
can't ! " 

" I suppose there will be certain 
formalities before we may take charge 
of the body?" Alice asked with a 
calm that was chilly. 

" Yes, ma'am," Caffney answered. 

" Thank you. I suppose you are 
under Detective Parks' s orders ? " 

" Yes, ma'am.'" 

" Yery well. We'll wait till the 
ambulance comes. Tell Detective 
Parks that, please. You know where 
to find me at any time." 

Caffney drew away, dragging Billy 
with him; and leaving him in the care 
of the policeman who held Borrow- 
man, strode past us toward Eighth 
Avenue. 

Pandemonium and chaos were min- 
gled there, and the swaying mass of 
humans grew larger and larger every 
moment." Every little while a shout 
would go Up and die away in a groan. 

Jeers and catcalls, questions and 
shouted answers, the clanging oJ 
tram gongs, traffic disorganized, more 
and more policemen — all about the 
capture of a single man whose name 
floated hither and thither incessantly. 

Every few minutes I imagined it 
was all over, and when we went slow- 
ly back to the steps to listen and watch 
and wait, my head was humming and 
throbbing, and though I tfied to catch 
Alice's eye and to understand her, I 
failed in both endeavors, just as I 
failed to guess at what the end would 
be. 

Margaret huddled very near to me, 
shivering and looking everywhere but 
toward the curb. Her eyes were tear- 
less, and she breathed as if her throat 
were dry and hard. 



Above us Rosie leaned against the 
baluster and seemed quite satisfied 
about the outcome. Delia was alter- 
nately watching us and Eighth Ave- 
nue like a hawk, and Beans had shift- 
ed his position nearer to his father, 
who was mumbling to himself. 

In the midst of the mob toward 
Eighth Avenue Campbell's escape 
would either be screened or choked, 
and once, as a yell went up and the 

crowd surged into th Street, I 

felt sure that the end had come. 

But it was only the ambulance and 
the police-patrol making a path as they 
came clanging up the street. 

Parks, followed by a policeman, 
came heavily through the crowd, el- 
bowing people right and left. 

The detective was puffing and 
blowing as a result of his exertions; 
he came directly toward us, ignoring 
the proceeding of placing Rollins's 
body in the ambulance. 

Alice spoke first. 

"You are Detective Parks?" she 
asked. 

" I am," very gruffly. " Are you 
Miss Van Huysen ? " 

Alice's nod was barely perceptible. 

" Caffney tell you ? " 

" Yes. miss ; but I guess you've got 
yourself mixed up with a bad bunch 
this time. This lady— Miss Rollins?" 

" Not now. She has just been mar- 
ried to this gentleman, who is her 
cousin, the Earl of Didderington. The 
ceremony was only completed a few 
moments before her father left. He 
seemed to be afraid of something, and 
insisted upon the marriage taking 
place down here, because he was hi- 
ding from some one and wanted it to 
come off before he sailed for Europe. 

" Mr. MacGregor and he were 
great friends. 1 believe, and I think it 
was Mr. MacGregor who suggested 
the Highland costume as a disguise, 
but I know very little about their inti- 
macy. Please try to make it as easy 
for us as you can. You know where 
to find us at any time, and if you wish 
me to, I shall only be too glad to an- 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



825 



swer any questions and help you all I 
can in the terrible business." 

She spoke so rapidly and so con- 
vincingly that Parks did not have 
either a chance or, apparently, the in- 
clination to interrupt, and he was no 
more surprised than Margaret and I. 
There was a trace of Campbell in 
Alice's prevarications: a twisting of 
the truth which only one man could 
have questioned, and he was dead. 

Parks looked at me, at Margaret, 
then back to Alice. 

" He is the Earl of Diddering- 
thing? " 

Didderington,'' Alice corrected. 
" He has been using the name Mason 
to avoid publicity. You've met him 
before, haven't you?" 

The detective's face clouded for a 
moment, probably at a memory. 

" How did that Varelli woman hap- 
pen to seee you with MacGregor last 
Saturday night?" he questioned me 
sharply, 

" Rollins was to have met me down 
there, but he didn't turn up," I an- 
swered, taking a leaf from Alice's 
book. " I told you I hadn't the faint- 
est idea — " 

" All right," came the interruption 
heavily, and there were a few mo- 
ments of agonizing hesitation that 
seemed to concern me principally. 
"'Well, I guess I can't hold you. Get- 
ting married ain't a crime." 

Then he touched my arm, nodded 
toward Margaret, and his voice 
dropped suddenly. 

" Get her out of this. She's goin' 
to faint in a minute. I guess I can 
find you if I want you. Good night." 

And he turned sharply upon his 
heel to issue orders as rapidly as his 
tongue could move, while I blessed the 
condition that gained privileges for 
Fifth Avenue and Berkley Square 
whether they told the truth or not. 

Alice did not hesitate a moment, 
but hurried us unchallenged and un- 
checked to the taxi which had waited 
for Rollins. A policeman clearing a 
path for us opened the door. 



A buzz of comment went up as I 
gave the chap the direction to my ho- 
tel, intending to get some of my bag- 
gage there and move on elsewhere. I 
had a glimpse of Delia and Beans 
watching us across the great gorge of 
class distinction, the former sneering, 
the latter sullen. 

The ambulance drew out with its 
ghastly burden as we crowded into 
the cab and our chauffeur took advan- 
tage of the lane it made to follow it 
quickly out. 

He drove toward Eighth Avenue, 
and through the window I saw a small 
army of detectives and policemen dis- 
persing the crowd and keeping watch- 
ful eyes upon the entrances to a num- 
ber of flats in which Campbell was be- 
lieved to be secreted. 

I hoped he had got out — hoped it 
fervently — and that he was putting as 
many miles between himself and Parks 
as possible. His days as Rob Roy 
were over. Of that much I was sure 
as we trundled away from that scene 
of turmoil and disaster, none of us 
seemingly very anxious to speak. 

Alice, though white and tight of 
lip, had given no sign that she was in 
the least disturbed about Campbell's 
safety: at least, not after Parks had 
failed to find him in the house. 

Margaret clung to me. There was 
no sign of a tear; nothing save an 
agonizing question in her eyes. 

Her lips moved silently, as if she 
were saying the question over to her- 
self before letting us hear. 

" Why — were they chasing — " 

" Don't, dear. Not to-night, please. 
It's all right. Everything." 

Her breath caught sharply, and I 
thought she smothered a sob as she 
looked abruptly out of the window. 

Finally the cab stopped. 

" Just a few minutes," I whispered ; 
and before 1 could open the door a 
gold-laced starter had performed the 
service for me. 

The second I reached the sidewalk 
I knew there was some mistake. 

It wasn't my hotel at all. 



826 



THE AL.L-STORY MAGAZINE. 



"What the dickens!'' I began, ap- 
proaching the chauffeur. " Didn't I 
give you — " 

I stopped. • 

Our chauffeur's hand came out to 
me. palm downward. 

" There's nae chairge, ye sassenach. 
Gude keep ye baith. Gude nicht." 
■ Campbell! 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

RIDING INTO DANGER. 

Before I had time to take stock of 
anything more than the miserable 
black mustache that covered his upper 
lip the cab was moving away. 

For one gasping second I thought 
he was carrying my bride away, and 
the next found her at my elbow trying 
to smile as I stood blinking down at 
her and after the podgy vehicle rat- 
tling off toward Fifth Avenue. 

How Campbell had managed it I 
could not imagine, but I quickly ap- 
preciated- that nerve was the principal 
ingredient toward his success ; and re- 
membering the horde of policemen 
and detectives that had been all about 
the cab, the thing became funny, or 
ludicrous, if you will, and serious as 
everything was I could barely restrain 
my enjoyment of the " joke." 

" Let's go somewhere and have 
your eye fixed," I heard Margaret 
whisper. 

" You can't go into the hotel like 
that." 

" No," I agreed. " Can't go in at 
all without baggage. What the deuce 
did he drop us here for?" 

'' Everything's here," she mur- 
mured, moving away from the ques- 
tioning scrutiny of the starter and a 
passer-by. " Mr. Campbell had it 
moved from your old place to-day — 
mine too. There is a drug-store across 
the street." 

We went across to the chemist's, 
and one of the chaps there doctored 
my eye and sold me a patch to cover 
its' unsightliness; after which, with my 



head hardly less painful than it had 
been, thought I stoically kept my hat at 
a respectable angle, we repaired to the 
hotel, where we found that Campbell, 
in his arrangements to defeat all of 
Rollins's schemes, had left nothing 
undone, even to the last detail of en- 
gaging a suite lor us. 

As we ascended in one of the eleva- 
tors I came to the unhappy conclusion 
that Margaret and I had been but 
pawns in a game that had necessarily 
to end with the social or physical anni- 
hilation of one of the players. 

The ending was written in Marga- 
ret's face, and the moment we were 
alone she lurched, rather than walked, 
to a chair, and, cowering into its 
friendly depths, shook from head to 
foot in a paroxysm of fear and horror 
— with her fingers in her ears. 

I went to her at once, and, putting 
my arms about her, tried to comfort 
her and lead her mind away from the 
ghastly memory upon it. 

But still she shivered, tearless and 
white — with her fingers in her ears. 

" I can — hear him — scream ! " she 
whispered. 

The morning papers were full of it 
— of the murder, the mob, the melo- 
dramatic escape of the leader of the 
notorious Rob Roy gang, the " ineffi- 
ciency of the police," the histories of 
Delia, her father, and his victim, and 
of our marriage and Alice's explana- 
tion of it. 

The accounts were hopelessly jum- 
bled, so that the " man in the street " 
had about a dozen stones from which 
to pick and choose and draw his own 
conclusions of a very tangled affair. 

But old man Borrowman's / reason 
for the shooting was always the same. 

It told plainly, with the addition of 
several reportorial frills of what Rol- 
lins had been guilty, and every news- 
paper, without a single exception, 
made the circumstance agree with the 
" something " of which Alice had said 
her uncle was afraid. 

My morning was rather restless, 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



827 



and I spent most of it keeping away 
the reporters and explaining to Mar- 
garet several matters, by no means 
pleasant, but which necessarily had to 
be made clear to her. 

I told her of the Gobbler, of the 
marriage Campbell had contemplated, 
of the fate of her jewelry, and the ori- 
gin of my bad eye — everything but the 
fact that her father had plotted for my 
life. 

When I had completed the lines of 
her mouth were a little hard. Her 
fingers gripped mine listlessly, and 
even the ringing of a telephone - bell 
did not send the dull, pained look out 
of her eyes. 

I rose and, going to the instrument, 
called quietly : 

" Hello! " 

"Hello! Didderington? " 

'"Yes." I did not have to ask to 
whom the deep bass voice at the other 
end of the wire belonged. 

" Mrs. Van Huysen would like to 
have your apologies and those of the 
countess. Come right over, will you? " 

" Just a minute." 

I turned toward Margaret. 

" Your aunt wants us to go over 
and apologize. Shall we? " 

" Not to apologize," she answered, 
and her lips closed firmly upon it. 

" The countess says she won't apolo- 
gize," I told Campbell. " Upon that 
understanding we shall be over imme- 
diately." 

A soft laugh came along the wire. 

" Good! Make it in ten minutes." 

We ran the gantlet of inquisitive 
eyes going out of the hotel and into 
the Van Huysens's. 

There were reporters lying in wait, 
and a more than usual crowd of the 
sort of people who seem to have noth- 
ing else to do except to take a violent 
interest in other people's affairs. 

Randor, imperturbable as usual, let 
us in and showed us into the morning- 
room, where we found Alice alone; 
and, as she rose to smile us welcome, I 
saw that there was a doubt upon her 
mind about something or other. 



She avoided all reference to the pre- 
vious evening's happenings, said her 
mother would be down in a few 
moments, and for those few moments 
I felt peculiarly ill at ease, as if some- 
thing should happen, but didn't. 

Just as 1 was on the point of asking 
her about the nurse and maid the door 
opened, and my single eye hurriedly 
avoided meeting the entrance of Mrs. 
Van Huysen, whose pallor was ac- 
centuated by the black of the gown she 
wore, but whose eyes and voice tried 
to make light of her ordeal. 

Behind her came — the nurse with 
the Gobbler! 

And then Campbell. 

Margaret ran forward, to be swept 
into a motherly embrace; and while I 
stood aside, feeling uncommonly un- 
comfortable, my wife was introduced 
to her half brother, who did not seem 
to care a rap about it. 

Alice and her mother circled about 
the " ceremony," seemingly surprised 
that Margaret asked no questions 
about the boy, and I found Campbell 
suddenly very near to me. 

He nodded toward the door and I 
followed him out of the room into an- 
other — the library — which was far 
enough away to give us the strictest 
privacy, and, judging by the careful 
way in which my companion closed the 
door, he evidently had something very 
important to say. 

There was no sign of Ralph. 

" How did you manage that last 
night?" I demanded at once. 

He grunted derisively, and, in spite 
of the suggestion in his manner that 
the explanation was an awful fag, he 
told me that his chaufTeuring rig-out 
had been in the kitchen where he had 
shed it when he got into the house. 
And he entered the same way as he 
went out — by way of Schmidt's saloon 
on Eighth Avenue. 

A ladder over the back wall and an 
alleyway to Schmidt's back door 
formed the principal means of exit, 
and he had to get into his leathern 
coat, leggings, and wigs on the way. 



828 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" Schmidt hasn't had the saloon 
long,' - he added dryly. " Ahout two 
years. He got it when I took the 
house, or I took the house when he got 
the saloon, whichever you prefer." 

" You mean the place is yours ? " 

" No. But 1 found it convenient to 
help put Schmidt into it. and his grati- 
tude allows us to use his hack door. 

" By the way, I'm afraid Parks is 
going to bother you. He is coming to 
interview Alice in a few minutes — 
telephoned quite nicely less than half 
an hour ago. and I'm sure he avouUI 
not trouble her this early i f he had not 
learned something worth while. There 
is only one link missing in his chain, 
and I think he is coming here to 
frighten Alice into forging it. 

" If she won't, he'll try to use Mar- 
garet and you. You see. I'm afraid 
he has learned, or will learn very soon, 
that Miss MacGregor and Miss Van 
Huvsen are the same person. The cul- 
prit is our friend Beans." 

" What?" 

Campbell nodded his head slowly, 
and his mouth tightened. 

" Yes. Remarkable, isn't it? He is 
as blind as a bat to his own interests. 
His type usually are when they imag- 
ine they are being ill - treated, and 
where Ire leads there -are fifty of the 
smaller fry who will follow, believing 
their necks are in danger. 

•• Crabbe and Paler and most of their 
crews have already left the city. The 
Clachan was closed by the police this 
morning. Andy, the "bartender, is be- 
ing held on suspicion. The rest, like 
rats, are leaving the sinking ship, for 
which I don't blame them in the least. 
In a case of this sort it is every man 
for himself ' an' the de'il tak' the hin'- 
most.' But to get back to Lieutenant 
Beans. 

" Unfortunately, he met Alice, the 
nurse, and the baby and I as we were 
leaving the Cathedral Parkway apart- 
ment "last night. That was after we 
left you. He was cle\er enough to 
suspect that I might be likely to do 
something of the sort, or perhaps 



Delia whispered the suspicion to him. 
In any case, he raised a deuce of a 
row because I insisted that the Gob- 
bler would be cared for by Rollins's 
people. 

" That shooting, Didderington, can- 
celed everything — everything! " 

He rose impatiently, his face cloud- 
ing with a shadow of the anger he had 
felt when his plan for Rollins's safety 
had miscarried. 

I won't raise a finger or a dollar 
to save Borrowman, and I won't be 
threatened into doing so. No man can 
kill on my door-step and get me to 
help him escape the penalty. Beans 
knows that. I told him so last night, 
and had to knock him down to pre- 
vent that revolver of his from doing 
any harm. 

" There is only one way out of this. 
You must forge Parks's last link. You 
will avoid all sorts of trouble if you 
tell Parks what he wants to know ; not 
only trouble for yourself, but every 
one else — the girls particularly. Of 
course, you could perjure yourself and 
lie a blue streak, but with your respon- 
sibilities you can't afford to take a 
chance of being caught at that. 

"Alice can take care of, herself. 
Seton Tait will look after Delia, be- 
cause her life is only beginning; and 
I. think, apart from what she did for 
me last night, she ought to have a 
chance. The others — well, I . shall at- 
tend to them. 

" But I can't do a thing for you to 
get you and Margaret cleanly out of 
this mess. I dragged you into it, but 
you must get yourself out — and take 
the Gobbler with you." 

He looked sharply, at me from under 
lowering eyebrows, while I sat aghast, 
incapable of solving either his argu- 
ment or his indifference to the coming 
of Parks. 

" You will sail next Wednesday — 
after the funeral — and the Gobbler 
and his nurse shall sail with you. The 
nurse is an old member of the family 
— took care of Margaret when she was 
a kiddie, so she's harmless. But to be 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



829 



allowed to get out of this country with- 
out having- the police at your heels, 
you must tell Parks the whole story, 
or enough of it to convince him that 
you are telling the truth. 

" Otherwise you are likely to be held 
here indefinitely, with Beans going 
about with blood in his eye. You un- 
derstand ? " 

" You don*t think I would be such 
a cad as to — " 

'"Rubbish! You've got your wife 
and the Gobbler to think about. I said 
—the Gobbler." 

Again he looked questioningly at 
me, evidently expecting me to make 
some objection to that. 

" That's ^all right. Margaret and I 
will look after him. But that other 
business! Hang it all! I — " 

He laughed in the depths of him 
and came round the table, holding out 
his hand. As his giant lingers closed 
about mine he said quietly : 

'• Thank you. I knew you would 
help me when the time came. But I 
see I must force you into that other 
thing, unless yo.ii want to spend your 
honeymoon in jail. You need not be 
in the least anxious about me. I am 
quite capable of — " 

A little tap upon the door interrupt- 
ed him. 

"Come!" he called in a low tone, 
and Randor appeared. 

" Mr. Parks to see Miss Van Huy- 
sen," he announced in a low monotone, 
as if he had been advised to do so. 

I glanced quickly up into Campbell's 
face, and saw him nod understand- 
ing 1 )'- 

" Any one with him? ' 
" No, sir." 

" All right. Show him in here." 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

RIDING OUT. 

With a sensation that the floor was 
sliding from under me I listened to the 
heavy footsteps in the hall, coming 
nearer and nearer. 



Campbell dug his hands into his 
jacket-pockets. 

" Most peculiar thing I ever heard 
of," he said loudly. " Miss Van Huy- 
sen tells me he is extraordinarily like 
me, and now you say you'd swear in a 
court of justice that we were the same 
man. I met the fellow once, I think, 
but I didn't seem to see the startling — " 

" Detective Parks." 

Randor's inflectionless voice ushered 
the detective across the threshold, and 
a foot within the room Parks halted, 
looking as if he had come into the 
wrong place, and was on the -verge of 
apologizing; and when the valet went 
out, closing the door, the detective 
started slightly, glanced quickly behind 
him, then back at Campbell. 

Parks's expression suggested that he 
did not believe it. All the odds in the 
mental conflict of those first few mo- 
ments were against him. Campbell 
had planned the business; Parks was 
groping in an even greater darkness 
than I. 

" Good morning. Mr. Parks. Miss 
Van Huysen will be in presently. She 
has been telling me about last evening, 
and both she and the earl — Mason, 
you know — have been remarking how 
terribly like this Rob Roy chap I am. 
The earl says he'd swear to it in court, 
though the first time he saw Mac- 
Gregor he did not see the resemblance 
so closely. 

" It was rather dark, you know, and 
last night apparently MacGregor wasn't 
wearing such hideous clothes — and 
that seemed to make all the difference. 
I wish you'd catch this double of mine 
and let me have a good look at him. 
Plow did you ever manage to let him 
get away like that? " 

Parks smiled, and there was a hint 
of admiration in it; but the cold light 
in his eyes told that the time for fen- 
cing with words had passed. 

" I guess he's pretty much like you, 
Mr. Campbell. Slick, you know-^-and 
reckless. It don't always pay to be too 
reckless, though, because — " 

I saw his right hand move. 



830 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" That will do! Up with your hands 
— both of you — quick ! " 

There was a glint of metal in Camp- 
bell's hand, an oath from Parks, and a 
sudden stop to the movement of his 
right arm. 

" Get them up! " 

Mine rose at once. Parks, blazing- 
eyed and frothy, was a little slower, 
and in thirty seconds Campbell- had 
reached his side, slapped his pockets, 
extracted a weapon and a pair of 
handcuffs, and had backed away, say- 
ing pleasantly : 

" I can use these. Now, please get 
over beside the gentleman who claims 
I am MacGregor. We've had quite an 
argument about it, and he thinks I 
ought to be in jail, so I thought I'd 
wait to see what you thought about it. 
Thanks — " as Parks moved obedient- 
ly to my side because he could not help 
himself. " Stick out your right hand 
— and you. Didder ington, your left.''' 

" YVh-what the deuce — " 

" That will do. I am going to give 
you a chance to tell this gentleman 
how much like MacGregor I am, and 
so that he won't get away from you 
while you're boring him to death with 
the story, these handcuffs — how the 
deuce do you open them, Parks? 
You'd better do it." 

And he handed the things to the de- 
tective in the most matter-of-fact way. 
but with a look in his eye and a manner 
of handling himself and the weapon 
he held that made resistance resemble 
suicide. 

Parks's lips were tightly compressed, 
his eyes were like living coals, and his 
hands trembled perceptibly as he hand- 
cuffed himself to me. I was beginning 
to lose sight of the joke. 

''Confound you!" I began a little 
warmly. " What — " 

" As you please." Campbell agreed. 
" But I should advise you to tell Mr. 
Parks what you think of me. He will 
appreciate it so much more. Let's see. 
That telephone-cord should do very 
well. And please remember I have 
two hands and two revolvers very 



handy, so I think you'd better not be 
foolish." 

He laid the weapon down upon the 
table, too far away for either of us to 
reach and within an inch or two of his 
hand, all the while he acquired enough 
telephone-cord to rope a horse. 

" You may sit down, and Mr. Parks 
may kneel and listen to the story at 
your knee. Quite a happy idea. Quick! 
I haven't much time." 

I sat down, utterly dum founded, 
and Parks, because he had to, c^une 
down with me to his knees. I never 
took part in anything more systematic 
or idiotic, and I'll wager the detective, 
who went red and white in turns, didn't 
either. 

There wasn't a sound in the hall, and 
though there was plenty of life passing 
to and fro in the street, we might have 
had the house to ourselves. 

In an instant Campbell had wound 
the telephone-cord about us, under our 
armpits; then twisting it in about our 
arms, so that we could barely move 
them above the wrists, he finally made 
us both fast to the chair. 

Working like a streak and breathing 
a little more heavily, he said, when he 
was almost finished : 

" I hope Mr. Parks won't be so 
ridiculous as to hold the lady of the 
house responsible for this little enter- 
tainment. At present she is in a room 
not far from here, with the Counters of 
Didderington and the baby that caused 
all the trouble, and they haven't the 
faintest idea of what is going on. 

" Didderington brought me in here 
to tell me how much like MacGregor 
I was; and I told the butler to show 
you in, so that the earl might have you 
all to himself to tell you about it. 
That's the whole plot." 

He stepped back a few paces to re- 
view his handiwork. 

" Perhaps I'd better gag you — 
what? " 

Parks sputtered like a bad squib; 
and if the telephone-cord hurt him as 
much as it did me, I could not blame 
him. I was becoming irritable enough 



A THIEVES' COMEDY. 



831 



to want to tell the story, and felt that 
a gag- would be the last straw. 

" No, I won't gag you. Diddering- 
ton could not tell you what he thinks 
about me if I did. And a few minutes 
is all I need. There is your revolver. 
Mr. Parks." 

There came three distinct but very 
light knocks upon the. door. 

Campbell smiled and moved toward 
it noiselessly with a tread so light one 
wondered how he did it. 

" Thank you, gentlemen. You have 
been very kind. Remember me to the 
countess, Didderington." 

His hand went out to the knob care- 
lessly. 

" And the Gobbler." 

He pulled the door open just a little 
and wedged himself into the space. 

" Good-by, Mr. Parks." 

I can hear the deep bass of that adieu 
now — can see the laughter in his eyes, 
and behind that a touch of sadness. 

The height and breadth of him, the 
red of his hair and the tightening lines 
of his mouth, come back to me — also 
the tip of a hat-plume behind him. 

That was all I saw of Alice Van 
Huysen. 

Then, in a moment, he had slipped 
from sight, and the door, closing silent- 
ly, shut them out. 

Parks did not move. 

I looked down at him, and found 
him staring at the door as if it fasci- 
nated him. 

Then, as I wondered why he did not 
shout or struggle, his head came round 
slowly and our eyes met. 

There was an awkward pause. 

" If you holler, I'll knock your block 
off!" I heard him say, and thought I 
dreamed it. 

Yet I struggled for my own safety 
to play my part. 

He'll get away if some one doesn't 
come and — " 

The look that came into Parks's eyes 
halted me. It was a mixture of con- 
tempt and pity. 

"Get away! Why, you — you — oh, 



well — what's the use? You don't 
know any better." As he strove to 
reach his vest-pocket he continued to 
growl : " He fooled you every way 
from the ace, and the minute you 
thought you were wise to him you 
took him into a quiet corner of a house 
this size and told him about it. Huh! 
And when he's made monkeys of us 
inside of four walls, you think we've 
got a chance to catch up with him 
when he's got the whole world to run 
about in. You oughta be pulled." 

" I'm sorry," I murmured penitently. 

" All right. I'll take your word for 
it," he mumbled, then objected sharp- 
ly. "Don't move away, you dope! 
Lean to me. That's better." A little 
more striving to get at his waistcoat- 
pocket. " Now we got it ! " 

His knife was what he was after, 
and he fumbled with it till he got it 
open, while I leaned toward him as 
much as the cord would allow in an 
effort to slacken it a little. 

As he sawed industriously at our 
bonds his glance went frequently to- 
ward the door, as though he were in 
dread that some one might come in; 
and when he finally succeeded in cut- 
ting us loose, my sigh of relief was 
no more fervent than his. 

The handcuffs were a matter of a 
moment; and as we both stood up with 
the pieces of telephone - cord at our 
feet, Parks looked straight at me — so 
straight that I felt uncomfortable. 

" Going back to England soon? " he 
asked gruffly. 

" Next Wednesday. After the 
funeral." 

He looked relieved; but as he turned 
to pick up his revolver he stopped, 
scrutinized me again, and made his 
point more clear. 

'* If you open your face about this 
to a livin' soul, you'll never go back. 
Understand ? " 

" I won't say a word," I assured him 
with more fervor than he dreamed of. 

" All right. Where's the way out ? " 
. He snatched up his revolver, then 
stepped back with a gasp, as if the thing 



832 



THE ALk-STORY MAGAZINE. 



that was under it might strike. Cra- 
ning my neck a little, I saw a card — a 
card with a border of red and black 
squares, in the center of which was 
neatly printed — 



FOR CHARITY 



Parks stared at it a moment or two, 
while I turned my face away ; then, 
shaking bis head as if the matter were 
beyond him, he picked the card up very 
carefully, pocketed it, and strode 
toward the door without a word. 

Randor. expressionless as a brick 
wall, met us in the hall; the sound of 
women's voices came from the morn- 
ing-room. 

Parks did not even hesitate. 

AVith a '* good morning " that was 
peculiarly subdued, he went out and 
down the steps, his shoulders drooping 
a little and his head forward as if in 
thought. Reporters swarmed round 
him, but he brushed them aside and 
marched steadily on — still thinking. 

Randor quietly closed the door. 

With something akin to pity. I turned 
toward the morning-room; then, halt- 
ing, asked the butler in as easy a tone 
as I could muster : 

"Miss Van Huysen has gone?" 

(The 



Randor's face twitched. 

" Yes, sir. Mr. Campbell and she 
went together/ - ' 

Peering into the library, he gasped 
in outraged servitude at the disorder 
Parks ami 1 had left.- Me limped by 
me to gather )up the telephone-rope and 
set things to eights. 

I stood momentarily in the hallway, 
straightening my ruffled clothing and 
trying to do the same with my disor- 
dered thoughts. The women's voices 
— almost gay, in spite of the tragedy 
about us — were raised in discussion in 
the morning-room. 

They were talking about the Gob- 
bler. Margaret, I was sure, would wor- 
ship the little waif. 

A\ 'hat about those other waifs — the 
Gregarach and Alice? Think of Alice 
— dignified, smart, unemotional Alice 
Van Huysen — slipping away with the 
thief ! The world would raise its hands 
in grinning horror. It was laughable 
— it was tragic. 

And now the two principal charac- 
ters (if this tragic farce had left the 
stage — perhaps never to be seen again"; 
the curtain was about to be rung down ; 
so I went back to the bosom of my 
" family " — to Margaret and the crow- 
ing Gobbler — sure that whatever some 
of the other players might have before 
them, my part was ended in this corn- 
ed}'' of thieves. 

End.) 



THE BARGAIN. 
By Philip Sidney. 

MY true love hath my heart, and I have his. 

By just exchange one for another given: 
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss, 

There never was a better bargain driven. 
My true love hath mf heart, and I have his. 

Plis heart in me keeps me and him in one, 

My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides : 

He loves my heart, for once it was his own; 
I cherish his because in me it bides : 

My true love hath my heart, and I have his. 





ove v oes 




erree 



i. 



H 



IS kisses burned her Hps and 
left her breathless, palpita- 



ting. 



By what little light there was in the 
shadow of the hedge he could see that 
she kept her eyes tight closed and 
could not restrain the convulsive wri- 
thing of her mouth. 

Her left cheek was splotched with 
vivid crimson where his unshaven 
chin had chafed its unnatural pallor. 
Her lingers remained clenched tensely 
in his waistcoat, and he was forced to 
-hake her roughly before she roused 
and relaxed her grip. 

" Vera — shy child." he murmured. 
That he spoke did not at first pene- 
trate her quivering consciousness. She 
was too agitated for that. Vaguely 
she was aware of a vast change in her 
inner being — a renascence of self, so 
to speak. 

Involuntarily her thoughts slipped 
back to Tomasz, her betrothed. The 
memory of him smote her soul with 
what amounted to a physical shock. 

Why. or why is it that the faculty 
of -wooing thus is reserved for the no- 
ble born ? " she thought. 

Then she turned her eyes back upon 
the man whose arms still enwrapped 

8 S 8 33 



her, and he was glad to observe that 
reason had once more replaced the 
vacuous ecstasy which his passion had 
roused. 

" Vera," he said again, this time 
more loudly, " are you calm again ? " 

The girl fought down the tremu- 
lous hysteria that rose within her and 
pressed his hot cheek with hers. 

" Calm ? " she sighed, breathing 
rapidly. " No, not that ! I think that 
I shall never be calm again." 

The reassurance the man threw into 
his laugh sounded hollow out there in 
the lone stillness of the night. 

" But you do love me, Vera? You 
are not afraid any more? " 

She shivered and again closed her 
eyes. Her words came thick, inartic- 
ulate. 

" Yes, I am stiHl afraid : but who am 
I to deny the devotion you offer me? 
I am only old Yakof's brat — doomed 
to poverty since the beginning. And 
you are a boyar — a great nobleman." 

" Yes," said he proudly, " I am Ni- 
kolai Iaroslaf. Yet 1 feel that it is no 
condescension to love you." 

The girl went on as if she had not 
heard him : " You have asked me to 
go away with you — to leave my father 
and brothers, the hut which has been 
my home, to see other horizons than 



834 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



this — to flee from Tomasz, my be- 
trothed." 

'• And do you regret that? " queried 
milord woncleringly. " Am I weighed 
in the balance With a yokel? " 

"No," said she. "No, sir. Only 
to-morrow was to have been my wed- 
ding day, and to-night — to-night you 
have said much of what we shall be 
to each other, but nothing of what we 
shall be to the world." 

Nikolai Iaroslaf laughed as he took 
her closer in his arms. 

" An honest girl," quoth he, " as . 
well as a pretty one. My dear, do you 
doubt but that I mean fairly by you ? " 

" How can I judge when you have 
blinded me with love?" cried she. 
" There was poor Yekaterina, the 
miller's daughter, who fled with the 
Count Vlacfimir. Who knows what 
has become of her? My brother Silic- 
ons says — " 

" Pish ! Yekaterina was Yekate- 
rina, and you are you. Is this Count - 
Vladimir become a standard on the 
countryside by which to estimate all 
other gentlemen ? " 

" You are angry,*' whimpered the 
girl, hiding her face against his chest. 
'' Ah ! do not look at me so. I will go 
away with you." 

Far off across the vapor-shrouded 
tilled lands a dog howled mournfully. 
The girl shivered and struggled out of 
the man's embrace. 

'' To-morrow night — here!" she 
whispered as if afraid some one might 
overhear her. " Good-by." 

" Wait! " said he. 

Once more her senses swum drunk- 
enly as the breath was crushed from 
her body bv the impact of his embrace. 
She walked unsteadily back toward 
the hollow where her father's house 
stood. The man's lips were acrid with 
the tears that had welled out from be- 
neath her eyelids where he kissed her. 

. II. 

All of the next day relatives kept 
arriving. 



Some came riding bareback on 
shaggy ponies, some bumping over the 
rutted roads in springless droshkies, 
some afoot from the distance of a 
league or more. Everybody was good- 
humored and keen for what fun might 
be got out of the wedding. 

Old Yakof, Yera's father, and her 
brother Sineous waved their hands to 
each newcomer as they bent to chesty 
work in the fields. 

The men guests, as they arrived, 
stabled their horses and went out 
among the furrows to help their 
hosts. The womenfolk bustled indoors, 
chattering, to poke sly fun at the 
bride-to-be, and to do their part in the 
kitchen, where great preparations for 
the prenuptial feast were under way. 

Vera, her drab mother and three 
buxom sisters, were there, elbow-deep 
in the mysteries of flour and pastry. 
Their faces were flushed from long 
standing over the ovens. There were 
kisses and hugging on all sides, and 
an unceasing babel of conversation. 

"Oh, the eager, trembling maiden!" 
laughed black-eyed Olga, a cousin 
from a near-by village. "See how 
demure she is ! " 

Vera gave the bantering company 
a troubled smile which conveyed the 
impression that her mind was astray 
on other things. 

" Do not tease me, please," she 
said. 

" Xo. don't do that! Let her think 
of her absent lover," cried Olga 
shrilly, whereat there was more rail- 
lery, in the midst of which Yera's 
guilty confusion was attributed to the 
memory of her betrothed. It took 
the girl some time to chide herself 
into tranquillity again. 

" I am unstrung — I am silly," she 
kept telling herself. " But I thought 
for a moment that they knew of Ni- 
kolai Iaroslaf, the boyar. - 1 must be 
calm — calm. I must not let them sus- 
pect anything. Oh, if this long day 
would only come to an end ! " 

The girl's heart was not in her 
work. Her mind was twelve hours 



LOVE GOES BLINDLY. 



835 



forward at the place where her noble 
lover was to meet her — where she 
would bid a last fareweH to these 
scenes of her childhood. 

Of what the future might hold for 
her Vera did not permit herself to 
think. She would not trust herself to 
do more than recall the breathless rap- 
ture of his embrace, of the hot words 
that made her palpitant even now in 
reminiscence. He had said that she 
was to leave drudgery and homespun 
behind her as things incompatible 
with his love for her. He had said : 

" Those little hands were made to 
be kissed, not for milking." 

All that Tomasz had said of them 
was : " Your hands are white and 
strong, Vera. Would you not like to 
keep the household for me?" 

She had answered yes with the 
family approval, and all of the coun- 
tryside had congratulated her. To- 
masz was a hard worker, sober enough 
as men went, and thrifty in his ways. 

" He will make a good father for 
your children," the old folks had told 
the girl, and she assented passively 
enough. 

She was willing then that it should 
be so. She knew that many a maiden 
envied her the privilege, and she 
planned things in a humble way — 
until Nikolai laroslaf catne. 

Vera met him for the first time at 
the county fair, lie had singled her 
out from a group of black-eyed maid- 
ens doing country dances on the 
green. He had induced her to step off 
to one side with him, and he had said : 

" Of all the girls here to-day you 
are prettiest, child. I like you." 

Vera's eyes had answered his. It 
tickled her vanity that so fine a gentle- 
man should have noticed her. So she 
humored what she mistook for a pass- 
ing whim, saying to herself : 

" I shall never see him again, any- 
way. Wherein is the harm of a little 
coquetry ? " 

To a maiden the harm is never self- 
evident. When Nikolai laroslaf, the 
boyar, and she kissed down by the 



brookside that day their sensations 
were the same, yet far differently in- 
terpreted. To the man they implied a 
specific thing — to the girl they were 
only vague stirrings of the emotions 
— a hunger for she knew not what, and 
which, if she had located it, would 
have frightened and repelled rather 
than have allured her. 

Even in subsequent meetings when 
the man had roused passion in her the 
girl remained neuter in so far as she 
attached any significance to her feel- 
ings. It was not until that last night 
when his vehemence had torn the veil 
away from fundamentals that she was 
made shamefacedly conscious — ac- 
knowledged that love implied subju- 
gation. 

And now she had promised to go 
away with him — to see life as a wom- 
an sees it from the masculated view- 
point. She dreaded, she was fright- 
ened, she was ashamed of the mater- 
nal instinct thus awakened. Yet she 
would go. The love of Nikolai laros- 
laf and the splendid future he offered 
her made life in a hovel now intolera- 
ble. 

At sundown all of the men came 
tramping in from their grimy work in 
the fields. They were sweaty and 
smelled — they were uproarious in 
their greetings. 

Ten, fifteen, twenty hairy lips 
smacked hearty kisses upon the girl's 
cheek and found her unresponsive. 
She met each of them dumbly. The 
time was drawing short now. 

By and by Tomasz, her betrothed, 
arrived. His hair was sleeked down 
with lambs' grease until it glistened, 
and he wore his worsted holiday 
clothes. He was a far bigger man, 
though younger, than Nikolai laros- 
laf. The tremendous muscles of his 
chest, arms, and legs showed even 
through his garments. When he 
laughed the whole room reverberated 
from- it and the guests smiled, saying: 

" Young Tomasz feels jolly to- 
night. He is thinking of ripe lips and 
a priest on the morrow." 



836 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Vera hung back when everybody 
else rushed to bid the bridegroom wel- 
come. She was observing him through 
the eyes of Nikolai Iaroslaf and 
shivered. 

The young man shook hands all 
around, answering jest with jest. He 
was in high good humor and kept 
craning his neck for sight of his 
sweetheart. 

"Vera, where is little Vera?" he 
cried. 

Old Yakof, her father, pushed the 
white-faced girl toward him through 
the jostling press of relatives. 

" Here she is, son," said he. " Here 
is the bashful bride!" 

Tomasz hugged her unaffectedly 
before them all, and was surprised 
when she finally broke away from 
him. He bent awkwardly and whis- 
pered in her ear : 

" We have not long now, little one." 

" No," answered she, " not long 
now." 

She was thinking of Nikolai Iaros- 
laf and the trysting hour. 

The prenuptial feast was served 
upon a long oaken trestle, with the 
guests seated on each side of it. 
There were not enough chairs to go 
round, so some of the people sat on 
boxes and some on logs of firewood, 
dragged in from the yard. Vera was 
pulled down upon her betrothed's lap. 

" Sit here and I will feed you, rosy 
one." he told her. 

She struggled futilely for a moment 
under the restraint of his iron arms, 
and then submitted passively to her 
position. Everybody made merry 
with them and indulged in the clumsy 
innuendos common to middle - class 
gatherings at such a time. 

" Do not mind them, dear," whis- 
pered Tomasz. " They mean their 
jests in good part." 

" I did not even hear what they 
said." replied Vera. " I was thinking 
of something else." 

The food was served in huge wood- 
en platters, from which each diner 
help himself generously. The loaves 



of rye bread were torn apart with the 
fingers, and the great smoking 
haunches of meat were apportioned 
by the knives that each man carried at 
his belt. 

There was home-brewed beer for 
the drinking, and each tankard held 
nearly a quart. It was but natural 
that the crowd should get more or less 
drunk. 

Tomasz, holding Vera astride of 
one mighty knee, fed her the choicest 
morsels from the platters. He would 
dip his hand into the ragout and pick 
out pieces of meat which he would 
force between her lips and kiss her 
afterward. 

" No more — I cannot eat any more, 
Tomasz — I am not hungry to-night," 
she would expostulate from time to 
time. 

Then he would hug her roughly 
and say : 

" You are thinking, little bride — is 
it not so? " and she would answer: 

" Yes. I am thinking, Tomasz." 

When even that great quantity of 
food was all consumed they still drank 
on. The dinner rapidly assumed the 
semblance of an orgy. The hour grew 
late, and Tomasz, with the heat of 
much malt in his veins, grew more 
ardent. Vera repulsed him as well as 
she could. 

" Let me go — I am tired," she in- 
sisted. " It is time that I was in bed, 
Tomasz." 

^ " Daughter is right," cried old 
Yakof, pounding upon the table for 
.silence. " The wedding is to be at 
nine in the morning, and it will take 
us a good two hours to get from here 
to the village where Father Ivan is to 
await us. So let the bride have her 
rest and we'll see bright eyes and rosy 
cheeks on her in the morning." 

Tomasz assented reluctantly amid a 
general clapping of hands. He 
strained Vera to him in a good-night 
embrace and gloomed after her figure 
as it disappeared behind the door of 
her room. Olga, seated beside him, 
pulled the swain's ears, laughing. 



LOVE GOES BLINDLY. 



837 



"Cheer up. doleful one!'' ex- 
claimed she. " After to-morrow you 
will have her always with you." 

But Tomasz remained gloomy and 
silent. Almost it seemed as if he were 
in the grip of a premonition. He tried 
to console himself with his already 
oft-emptied tankard. 

Meanwhile vera was alone at last 
in her room. She leaned, breathing 
hard, against the rough pine wall, try- 
ing to compose her mind. The strain 
of that long day's pretense had un- 
nerved her. 

Her faculties were henumhed. Her 
head was heavy — her eyes seemed 
leaden. Without undressing she threw 
herself upon the bed and, with a sigh, 
closed her eyes. 

She would rest thus — just for a 
little while. 

It yet lacked three hours of cock- 
crow — the time she had set for her 
flight. Nikolai Iaroslaf was to tap 
thrice, very softly, at her window. 
His droshk'y, with two of the fleetest 
horses on the steppes, were to be 
awaiting them, hidden in the hollow 
where he had met her the night before. 

All the wedding guests would be 
sunk deep in slumber in the outhouses 
— some maybe lying out on the grass. 
But they would not hear the clatter of 
hoofs as the bride fled away. They 
would be too beer- fuddled for that. 

Nikolai Iaroslaf would drive fast, 
with his one skilled hand on the reins 
and his other clasped round the waist 
of her whom he was bearing away to 
better things. He would show her the 
wonders "of Moscow, of St. Peters- 
burg, of foreign lands, perhaps. 

He would give her shoes and stock- 
ings to wear — hang a rope of pearls 
around her neck: How nice it would 
seem to feel soft, warm furs nestling 
close round one's throat — to do noth- 
ing but lie soft in the arms of a great 
nobleman and hear him say : 

" Your little hands were made for 
kisses, not milking, dear heart!" 

To rise late in the morning and — 
and — and — 



The girl's breathing was soft and 
regular. 

She lay there with her red lips 
parted in a vague smile, with the flush 
of dreams on her cheeks. 

She slept and time slipped away. 

III. 

Ykra did not hear the cocks crow 
— did not anticipate the first pallid 
streaks of dawn along the horizon 
line. It was rather a subtle prescience 
that the trysting hour was come that 
startled her suddenly from the depths 
of troubled slumber. 

A nameless dread — a formless pre- 
monition weighted her sensibilities. 

The house was wrapped in an audi- 
ble silence. It seemed to the girl as 
if she were left all alone on earth. 

She was conscious that she had 
overslept the hour. She knew there 
was need for hurry, yet she could not 
shake off the inexplicable torpor. 

The sky glowed pink through a rent 
in the old skirt she had hung before 
her window. It warned her to make 
speed. The chill of early morning bit 
through her dress and raised goose- 
flesh on her bare arms. 

She experienced a sinking sensation 
at the pit of her stomach and shiveretl, 
closing her eyes tight and biting her 
lips until the blood left them, and they 
remained white as chalk. Was it the 
frost in the air that made her feel so, 
or was it the thought of all that then 
hung in the balance? Vera could not 
tell.' 

Rat, tat, tat! — a sudden guarded 
tattoo upon her window. 

The girl stilled the hysterical 
scream that rose to her lips and caught 
her breath — waiting. 

Rat, tat, tat! Rat, tat, tat! 

There it was again, more insistent, 
less guarded, imperious this time. It 
was he — Nikolai Iaroslaf. Vera 
caught a dark shawl from a peg on 
the wall, cast it round her shoulders, 
and slipped to her door with a flutter- 
ing heart. 



838 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



She opened the door cautiously, 
inch by inch, and peered into the outer 
room. 

Stertorous breathing met her ears 
on every side. The first ghastly rays 
of morning struggling through the 
single window lent the scene an added 
grimness. 

The long trestle yet stood with the 
remains of last night's food and un- 
washed dishes upon it. 

The wedding guests — here a gigan- 
tic bearded man, there a disheveled 
woman — lay sprawled about on the 
floor, snoring, their mouths open, their 
clothes still on. The reek of stale 
beer was nauseating on the air. All 
were fast asleep. 

Cat-footed, the girl stole out among 
them, lifting her skirts high and step- 
ping over those of the sleepers whom 
she could not go around. 

Once one shaggy peasant almost un- 
der her very feet thrashed about with 
his arms, grumbling in a guttural tone. 

Vera stood rigid, sweaty with fear, 
in the belief that he might awaken. 
He did not, and, with a gasp, she got 
safely by him and out through the 
house door into the yard, where the 
air was cool and clean. 

Tt had already begun to grow light. 
The eastern sky was flooded with 
crimson, and the rim of the sun was 
rising like a fiery ball out across the 
flat expanse of the steppes. A bird 
twittered tentatively on the limb of an 
adjacent tree and cocked its head at 
the huddled figure by the door. 

Hugging the wall close, the girl 
turned the corner of the house and 
scurried across the intervening space 
between it and the stables. She could 
hear the ponies champing and stomp- 
ing in their stalls. The smell of the 
hay was sweet in her nostrils. She 
paused there for a momentary glance 
back at the home she was leaving. 

As she turned to go a great shaggy 
shape stalked out of the black, yawn- 
ing barn door and blocked her path 
with bared fangs and hair bristling all 
along its spine. A menacing growl 



rooted her to the spot as she recog- 
nized Janos, the boarhound of Tomasz," 
her betrothed. 

It was a frightful moment. The 
beast's eyes gleamed redly wicked at 
her. A wrong move and he would be 
at her throat. A single bark and he 
would awaken those whom she was de- 
serting. 

" Janos — down boy! " the girl whis- 
pered, casting back the shawl so that 
the dog might see her face plainly. 
" Don't you know me, Janos? It is I, 
Vera, who has fed you so often." 

Slowly the pricked ears relaxed and 
the beast's tail began to wag in friend- 
ly fashion. He stalked forward and 
thrust his cold, moist nose into the 
girl's trembling palm. 

He looked up into her face under- 
standingly. as if to say: "Ah, yes! I 
recognize you now, mistress. You are 
pretty little Vera, whom Tomasz, my 
master, loves so. Do not be afraid. I 
will not hurt you. I will keep you safe 
for him.'' 

The girl stroked the dog's head with 
quick, persuasive fingers. She urged 
him back to the barn door and tried to 
make him go inside. 

"Lie down, Janos — be cmiet," she 
whispered. 

Then she tried to slip away, but in 
a trice lie was up and at her heels' 
again. Several times she tried to 
make him leave her, but always with- 
out success. In despair she at last set 
off at a run. The hound followed 
close at her heels. 

The ground dipped low into a kind 
of valley in which the wind - blasted 
grass was dry and ankle-deep. Less 
than a quarter of a mile away a clump 
of ancient trees stretched gaunt, 
gnarled limbs heavenward, as if in 
protest against their desolate environ- 
ment. 

The fleeing girl kept her eyes fixed 
fast on them. They were her destina- 
tion. Hidden in their shelter Nikolai 
Iaroslaf was waiting with his droshky 
and fleet horses — waiting impatiently 
to bear her away to splendid things. 



LOVE GOES BLINDLY. 



839 



As she neared her goal a horse 
neighed and a cloaked figure stepped 
forth to meet her. It was he ! 

The boyar was booted and wore a 
little round Astrakhan cap that fitted 
close to his heffcl and became him well. 
His clothes were of bright blue broad- 
cloth and the fine linen frill of his 
shirt-bosom fluttered in the morning 
breeze. 

The girl noticed that he carried a 
little riding-crop in his hand, but failed 
to see the angry scowl that vanished as 
she put out her hands to him. 

" You are foolishly late," said he 
abruptly, making an effort to soften 
the harshness that crept into his voice. 
" Come, we must hurry. They may 
awaken and miss you at any moment 
now." 

Vera leaned, panting, against his 
shoulder. She was palpitant from the 
strain of her long run. 

" Wait ! " she gasped. " I — I am so 
tired ! " 

Nikolai Iaroslaf grasped her arm 
and urged her lagging feet toward 
where his equipage was to be seen 
through the trees. 

" I cannot afford to wait," he insist- 
ed. " Do you" want them to come out 
and catch us? We must hurry, I tell 
you ! " 

" One minute — I'm afraid," pleaded 
the girl, trying to twist loose from the 
hard pressure of his fingers. " You — 
you frighten me when you say things 
to me in that tone, Nikolai." 

The nobleman gritted his teeth to 
withhold the oath that sprang to his 
lips. He glanced back over his shoul- 
der in the direction of the house. 

" Don't be foolish," he snarled. 
" This is no time for silliness of that 
kind. You have gone too far to re- 
treat now, my girl." 

Not the words, but their intonation 
struck Vera as ominous. Her heart 
quailed, and the vague hesitation of 
the last hour formulated into definite 
fear. She wrenched her arm violently 
free of him. Her doubts showed plain- 
ly in her eyes. 



" I distrust you when you speak like 
that," she said. " I do not believe that 
you mean honestly by me. I am mind- 
ed not to go." 

"Are you stark mad?" ejaculated 
the nobleman, beating his clenched 
hands together. " You must go with 
me-! That bumpkin, your betrothed, 
would not take you back now. 

" Anyway, why are you afraid of 
me ? Have I not said that I love you ? 
Told about all of the luxuries with 
which I shall surround you when we get 
away from this abominable place? 
Were your protestations of reciprocal 
passion mere words that died stillborn 
as soon as uttered here last night ? Am 
I nothing to you, Vera? " 

The pupils of the girl's eyes widened 
perceptibly. Her nostrils fluttered. 
.She began to breathe fast again. 

" Yes — you are much to me — you are 
everything, Nikolai Iaroslaf, but you 
were so harsh just then. I love you, 
though dreading I know not what. 
What proof have I that this feeling of 
yours for me is not more than a pass- 
ing fancy ? " 

For an instant the man hesitated, 
staring at her. Then suddenly he 
thrust pne hand into the bosom of his 
coat and drew forth a dull gold neck- 
lace to which was attached an old- 
fashioned locket. He pressed it into 
her unwilling hands. 

" Open the locket," said he. " See! 
that is a miniature of my mother, the 
countess. Feodor Vlaseiovitch, mas- 
ter portraitcur to his imperial highness, 
painted it." 

Then, before the girl could protest 
or deter him, the nobleman slipped the 
chain over her head and shoved the 
locket down into the bosom of her 
dress. 

'' Wear the most precious thing I 
possess," cried he. " That locket was 
my mother's deathbed gift to me. It 
is yours in proof that I love you truly. 
Now are you convinced, shy heart? " 

The girl wavered before the hot ap- 
peal in his eyes, and then gave herself 
impulsively into his arms. 



840 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" I believe all you say. I will go with 
you. Nikolai," she said, unbidden tears 
welling slowly out from under her 
drooped eyelids. 

The nobleman kissed her hastily and 
took her up bodily in his arms. 

" We must hurry. I will carry you 
to the droshky," cried he. with the 
thrill of exultation in his voice. 

As he turned to execute his words, 
Janos, the boarhound, rose up out of 
the long grass. His throaty snarl halt- 
ed the man's precipitate steps. 

He let Vera slip to her feet on the 
ground again, and one hand stole into 
the side-pocket of his coat. 

" Back, Janos — home with you ! " 
commanded the girl, stamping her foot 
and trying to cow the animal, which 
refused to pay any attention to her." 

Keeping her eyes fixed fast on those 
of the dog. she took reassuring hold of 
one of her companion's hands and tried 
to pass The dog's dewlaps curled 
farther back and every coarse hair on 
his back seemed to stand on end. The 
ugly rumble of his growl warned them 
against movement. 

In answer Nikolai laroslaf leaped 
suddenly forward and struck at the 
beast with his heavy riding crop. 
Janos sprang at his aggressor's throat. 

There came the sudden flash and 
stunning report of a pistol that mingled 
with a yelp of agony as the hound fell 
backward. 

The echoes of the shot went booming 
across the silence of the place. The 
nobleman caught Vera's hand and 
pulled her after him. 

"Run!" he shouted. " We have 
awakened your friends now. The 
speed of my horses is our only chance 
for it! " 

Hand in hand the)' raced to where 
the thoroughbreds were prancing be- 
fore the droshky. It was the work of 
but an instant to loosen their hubbies 
and make the long whip whine over 
their heads. 

The horses were off with a bound 
and a tossing of heads. They took to 
their task like racers. As they dashed 



out upon the beaten highway, threaten- 
ing shouts arose behind them. 

" Oh ! " whispered the girl, white- 
lipped. ''They are after us!" She 
shrunk closer against her grim- faced 
companion, whose eyes were fixed 
straight ahead. " Do you think they 
can catch us, lover ? " 

The nobleman's harsh laugh was 
carried away soundless by the rush of 
the wind past their ears. 

" Let them try to at their peril," he 
said. " I never have heard of but one 
peasant who manhandled a boyar of the 
empire, and the governor crucified him 
head downward at Utskow last sum- 
mer." 

The road was rutted deep, with the 
dust of four rainless months thick upon 
it. The droshky creaked and rocked 
dangerously from side to side as it was 
hurtled madly along behind the pound- 
ing hoofs of Nikolai Iaroslafs thor- 
oughbreds. 

Coveys of little white birds were 
scared out of their shelter in the way- 
side grasses and rose into the air with 
querulous cries all about the fugitives. 
As the sun rose higher the dust thick- 
ened. 

It got into their eyes, mouths, hair, 
and nostrils; it coated the sleek sides 
of the horses thickly. When the head- 
long gallop at which their driver kept 
them began to tell on the beasts, spume 
began to edge their bits and to lather 
the chafing harness. Trickles of sweat 
ran like shiny threads down along their 
dust-caked bodies. 

Yet the speed did not slacken, nor 
did Nikolai laroslaf pay any heed to 
the pitiful figure huddled up beside him. 
Had he. indeed, looked he would have 
observed that Vera's lips were moving 
in inarticulate prayer. 

Her glances every now and then 
were cast wildly in the direction 
whence they fled. She kept asking 
hersel f : 

" Is all this truly real ? Is it not a 
nightmare? Will I not awaken and 
find that I have been asleep? "' 

People were just getting up to go 



LOVE GOES BLINDLY. 



841 



about their daily tasks in Obtrusk — 
Cousin Olga's village — when the ca- 
reening equipage dashed through its 
single street. The yet sleepy-eyed 
countrymen ran to right and left in 
frantic haste to avoid the ruthless 
hoofs. They stared after the dwindling 
cloud of yellow dust in the droshky's 
wake, asking each other : 

" By the rood, good man, what was 
that? Is it some courier riding upon 
the little father's business? " 

One old crone, peering from her 
w indow, affirmed this conjecture. 

" I saw the Czar's insignia on the- 
driver's cloak," said she. 

Ten minutes later they were more 
truly informed by four fellow-peasants 
who thundered into their excited midst 
on blown plow-horses. The riders 
were helped stiffly down from their 
saddleless mounts and gulped down 
two or three jugs of water apiece be- 
fore they could speak. 

Then the eldest of the quartet shook 
back the tangled mane of hair from 
before his dirt-rimmed eyes and spread 
out his arms before the gaping crowd. 

" Look at me, people ! he cried. 
" Do you not recognize me? I am old 
Yakof. your neighbor — an upright 
man, known to you all." 

" It is true — that is indeed old 
Yakof ! " exclaimed a dozen voices in 
unison. 

Men and women crowded about, 
mouthing eager questions as to why he 
rode there in such haste and at such an 
hour. 

"Listen, listen, good friends!" 
shouted the old man above the babel. 
" A rascal has carried off my daugh- 
ter — laughing little Vera — you all 
know and like her. Did not a droshky 
pass through here a little while ago? 
She, my pure bird, was in it. For the 
love of the saints, give us fresh horses 
and help us in the pursuit ! " 

" What is that you say? An abduc- 
tion? Little Vera, whom Tomasz was 
to marry? Who is the villain? - ' and 
so on — a great chatter, interspersed 
with righteous curses and adjurations 



to the saints. In the midst of it all, 
fresh horses and new recruits to hunt 
down the unknowir>ravishcr. 

Meanwhile the fugitives had gained 
ground and felt more assured of escape, 
though Nikolai Iaroslaf did not permit 
the pace to slacken because of that. 

They dashed through several other 
villages where the smell of cooking 
food tantalized their nostrils and re- 
minded them of their hitherto disre- 
garded appetites. Yet they dared not 
pause. The risk was still too great. 

By nightfall they came to the edge 
of the great Svold forest, which all 
afternoon had lain like an approaching 
cloud on the horizon before them. 

" Safe for a while at least," breathed 
the nobleman as the tree-boles closed in 
behind the equipage and the last rays 
of the sun were blotted out in the 
mysterious,- whispering twilight of the 
wood. 

Vera caught her breath sharply, but 
made no answering comment. She was 
too familiar with countryside super- 
stitions to feel at ease in that lowering 
forest at night-time. 

The road was a mere zigzag wagon- 
track, and the nobleman, perforce, let 
the horses make their own pace, which 
was slow. Their sides heaved and 
their heads hung, with nostrils dis- 
tended, welcoming the moist coolness 
round them. 

By and by they came upon a little 
glade where a glimpse of the darkening 
sky could be had through the leaves 
and where the sward was sweet-smell- 
ing with dew. Of their own accord the 
horses stopped to crop the grass, and 
Count Nikolai came out of his black 
reverie with a start. He turned to his ' 
companion. 

" We may as well get out here and 
stretch ourselves while we have the 
chance."' said he, studying the white, 
drawn face the girl presented. 

He helped her out of the droshky 
stiffly and rubbed her arms and ankles 
until the numbness in them was suc- 
ceeded by aches that showed how the 
blood was circulating freely again. He 



842 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



held her close up against him and kissed 
her wan face. 

The caresses unnerved the girl. 

" I am hungry — oh ! so hungry, Ni- 
kolai," she whimpered. 

" And so am I, dear heart." answered 
he, " hut I have only this. Drink some. 
It will sustain you until we can get to 
Utskow in the morning." 

She opened her lips ohediently as he 
tilted the flask up against them, and 
she coughed until the tears stood in 
her eyes as the vodka scorched her 
throat. She did not like the taste of 
it, but the burning warmth that almost 
immediately swept through her veins 
was welcome and made her more her 
old self. 

" Let me rest a bit," she sighed, 
drooping against his shoulder. " Just 
a little while, lover, and then we shall 
go on again." 

Count Nikolai spread his cloak out 
on the grass and sat cross-legged with 
Vera curled up in front of him, her 
head in his lap and one arm encircling 
his waist. She heaved a great sigh of 
weariness. 

Away up above stars were beginning 
to twinkle frostily in the sky. The 
tree-trunks were gray and ghostly, 
bearded with moss, and reverberant 
with the good night chirps of little 
birds. Somewhere off in die depths of 
the forest an owl hooted in melancholy 
fashion. 

The girl's lids dropped and she let 
her body relax. 

Presently she slept. 

IV. 

What it was that finally awakened 
her she could not tell. Her eyes flashed 
open with sleep scared out of them ■ 
her every sense was keenly alert. She 
felt as if some terrible thing were 
skulking just out of arm's reach there 
in the blackness, ready to pounce down 
upon her. Yet there was no sound nor 
sign to confirm her apprehension. 

Count Nikolai's chin had dropped to 
his chest and he also drowsed. The 



night dew had dampened his hair until 
it hung down over his forehead, giving 
him a wild and haggard look. The 
horses were still browsing a few yards 
away. 

Vera listened intently, her very 
breath suspended. No sound. The 
vast silence of the forest seemed 
palpable almost. The girl had to choke 
back a hysterical impulse to scream at 
the top of her lungs. 

It was there — there ! She knew it 
was ! She could not hear it, nor see it 
— could not tell what it was — but she 
was sense-conscious of a lurking 
menace close to her. 

"Nikolai! Nikolai, lover!" she 
hissed, gripping the sleeping man 
frantically by the arms. "Awake! I 
am afraid ! There is something here ! " 

The nobleman was startled into sud- 
den consciousness, and his awakening 
ejaculation was barely smothered by 
the girl's hand on his lips. Then cau- 
tion came to him. His hand slipped 
into his coat-pocket and emerged again 
grasping his pistol. 

"What is it, Vera?" he whispered 
uneasily. " What have you seen ? 
What frightened you? " 

" I don't know, but it is here-^over 
there — all around us in the shadows of 
the trees! " she gasped, making a brave 
effort to retain self-control. " It is 
nothing that I have actually seen or 
heard, but I can feel it — seem to sense 
red eyes staring at us." 

Count Nikolai's lingers tightened 
round the pistol-butt, and his eyes nar- 
rowed as he strove in vain to pierce 
the gloom which surrounded the open 
place in which they sat. Inch by inch 
he drew his feet up under him until 
he could push the girl aside and spring 
up. with leveled weapon, shouting: 

" Come out from behind those trees, - 
you dogs! Stand fortn, or I fire! " 

The dismal echoes were his only 
response. Vera had risen, too, with 
her legs shaking under her. 

" I am so afraid, lover," she shud- 
dered, clinging to him. " Let us go 
away from here quickly. Let us get 



LOVE GOES BLINDLY. S43 



in the d-roshky and hurry out of this 
dreadful wood ! " 

Her companion tried to dissemble his 
uneasiness by a nervous laugh. 

" Vou must be mistaken, child," said 
he. " There seems to be nothing here.'' 

He turned to unhobble the horses, 
and as he did so Vera heard the leaves 
rustle on the other side of the clear- 
ing. A pair of burning eyes met her 
stricken stare, and, almost ere the 
shriek of warning had escaped her lips, 
Count Nikolai had seized her around 
the waist and bounded into the shelter 
of the trees behind them. Both were 
breathless and acpiiver. 

It was Tomasz — it was Tomasz, 
with fearful, glaring eyes!" shivered 
the girl. " They have overtaken us ! 
We are lost ! " 

Count Nikolai"s lips set grimly into 
a straight line. Holding her by one 
hand, he dodged away from the dan- 
gerous proximity from tree-trunk to 
tree-trunk. He kept his eyes and pistol 
directed in the direction whence thev 
fled. 

Then came a crackle in the under- 
brush to their left, and the fugitives 
changed their course, only to be ab- 
ruptly halted a few seconds later by 
similar sounds both before them and 
on their right hand. 

"Trapped! '* snarled Count Nikolai, 
baring his white teeth like a wild ani- 
mal at bay. 

The cordon was closing in round 
them. 

The man and the girl crouched down 
among the wet foliage and waited. 
Then all sounds of pursuit ceased and 
an ominous quiet again reigned. 

They hid there ten, fifteen, twenty 
minutes — hours long it seemed to them 
— and heard nothing. It was nerve- 
racking, unbearable! In a frenzy the 
nobleman leaped to his feet and bel- 
lowed for them to come at him — to dare 
lay a finger-tip on him, a boyar of the 
empire. 

Then they came — nine of them all 
told, though seeming to be a score or 
more by reason of the fantasy of those 



eery surroundings. They came. They 
stamped, gnashed teeth, spat guttural 
curses, clenched, clawed. 

The count's pistol snapped in their 
contorted faces, but did not explode. 
He had forgotten to reload it after 
shooting Janos the boarhound. 

He felt huge, sinewy arms strain 
terrifically round him until his ribs 
seemed caving inward. 

One peasant, trampled under foot, 
screamed horribly and sank his teeth 
into the calf of the battling nobleman's 

leg- 
Old Yakof was pulling out the 
count's mustache by the roots. With 
his stubby thumbs some one else tried 
to gouge out Nikolai Iaroslaf's eyes. 

Down went the fighting man, with his 
snarling aggressors heaped upon him. 

The heart-breaking pressure upon his 
ribs never relaxed. 

Foul breath was hot on his face. 
His jaws hung open as he gasped for 
breath and tore frantically at the ears, 
noses, and hair on faces which his 
blurring eyes could no longer distin- 
guish. Faintly, as if from a great dis- 
tance, he heard appalling shrieks in a 
voice that he seemed to know. 

He was suffocating. His brain 
worked slowly but very methodically. 

Where had he heard that voice be- 
fore? It was not that of the Princess 
Nenia; could it be that of the dashing 
Mile. Alix Petrovna, to whom men 
bowed all along the Nevsky Prospekt ? 
Then there was — 

Ah ! the little peasant girl with the 
eyes blue as corn-flowers and the 
charming smile — the child who so liked 
to have him — 

" Vera,"' wheezed the prostrate man, 
and wondered at the murky haze that 
was aswim before his eyes. " Vera." 

V. 

Consciousness returned to Vera, 
the betrothed, with a rush, the horror 
and devastation of which was like the 
sweep of a tidal wave. 

She was literally submerged through 



( 



844 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



the opened flood-gates of her senses., 
and, spiritually drowning, opeifed dry. 
colorless lips to cry out, to scream, 
shriek, yell hideously. 

She was lying there in her bare, 
little, cheerless room, with the rosin 
oozing odoriferously through the pine 
walls and the tattered old skirt hung 
over the unglazed window. 

Everything about her was familiar; 
nothing was changed except her inner 
being. 

She screeched raucously in mental 
nausea. In a trice twenty well-known 
and beloved faces were about her bed- 
side and half a dozen women with arms 
outstretched to mother her. 

" Vera — child, child, what is it?" 
they cried, and another voice — that of 
Tomasz — said anxiously : 

" Tell us." 

The girl pushed them frantically 
away from her and sat up in bed — eyes 
staring and vacant, lips parted in a 
senile way. Pier voice was a mere 
whisper. 

" Murderers — murderers — murder- 
ers! " she croaked. " You have killed 
him — killed him ! " 

A babel of ejaculations broke loose 
round her. Old Yakof stared per- 
plexedly at his good wife. Red-lipped 
Olga shrank back with a little cry 
against Tomasz's stalwart form. The 
lover seemed to gape his incredulity of 
the words that grated from his be- 
trothed's lips. 

" Why don't you speak?" the girl 
rasped, gritting strong, white teeth so 
that all there could hear her. " ^ 'hy 
don't you say something — laugh — ad- 
mit that you did this thing? 

" Are you afraid now that you have 
made away with a boyar? Are you 
thinking of nooses and the gallows by 
the crossroads with yourselves strung 
up there, swinging in the wind like 
scarecrows ? 

"You, old Yakof — you who begot 
me — gouged out his eye with that 
thumb, and you, Tomasz, stamped him 
flat with your nail-hobbed boots. Oh. 
I saw. Murderers ! Lying there, still 



fighting, with blood puddled in the 
dead leaves. Murderers ! Murder- 
ers! " 

"Vera!" shouted old Yakof com- 
mandingly. and upraised both arms 
like a priest exorcising some poor soul 
possessed of a devil. 

A dozen voices whispered : "Mad. 
Poor Tomasz ! " 

The bridegroom dropped to his 
knees by the bed, appeal on his face. 
An old woman — she had suckled Vera 
in infancy — pushed him to one side 
and put her two arms around the 
quivering, exhausted figure on the bed. 

" Go away, you foolish people," she 
cried. " Don't all stand there staring 
like boobies! Can't you see that this i# 
nothing? The poor child has had the 
nightmare." 

" A dream — she is still in the travail 
of some awful dream," the wedding 
guests and relatives chorused, and sev- 
eral lausdied throatilv in their relief. 
" Why did we not think of that before? 
But oh. how she startled us ! " 

Rank contempt curled the girl's lips. 

" So you are really cowards as well 
as murderers," she accused them. 
" Do not try to fool me so! I dream, 
indeed! Have I slept for a whole day 
and a night, then? I ask you that? " 

" Slept for a day and a night? 
What is she talking about?" the en- 
semble asked each other. The old nurse 
waved them pettishly back again and 
addressed herself to the girl with in- 
finite patience. 

" You are unstrung, my dear," said 
she. " You must have eaten something 
that did not agree with you at the bridal 
dinner. No day has passed since then. 
See. child, you still have on the bridal 
dress, just as you left us to come in 
here from the table last night. 

" You must have thrown yourself 
on the bed to doze for a minute before 
undressing, and then this hallucination 
came to you. Be yourself. This is 
your wedding morn, and it is time we 
were on the way to Scurocz. where 
Father Ivan awaits us with bell, book, 
and candle. 



LOVE GOES BLINDLY. 



845 



" Observe the anxiety into which 
your wild words have thrown Tomasz 
— good Tomasz, who is to be your hus- 
band. Your outcry awoke us from 
sound sleep." 

Vera stared dully down at her limbs 
and saw indeed the bridal dress, 
rumpled from her tossing about on the 
bed. Through the open door she noted 
that the oaken trestle still bore the re- 
mains of the wedding feast. Her 
senses reeled unsteadily, and she passed 
shaking hands slowly across her clam- 
my forehead five or six times. 

" But, but — " she whispered. 

Sense was gradually coming back 
into her eyes. The old woman soothed 
her as one would an infant. 

Tomasz secured one of her hands 
and stroked it tenderly. 

He kissed it and said : 

" I love you, Vera." 

Red blood coursed through the girl's 
veins again, and, pushing aside the 
watchers, she slid shakily to the floor. 
A sense of peace embalmed her soul, 
and she let Tomasz draw her slowly 
into the strong security of his embrace. 

" I am so tired, dear Tomasz," she 
sighed, " but I am ready to go now 
to Father Ivan, if you are. I am glad 
that it was only a dream." 

Then everybody clapped their hands. 

" This is as it should be ! " they cried. 
"Let us be off! Hurry, good wife; 
come, brothers ! Hey for the bride's 
candles and old Father Ivan ! " 

So the wedding procession was 
formed and, with bright holiday rib- 
bons flaunting, the little company took 
the road to Scurocz. 

Most of the men walked, striding 
along in time to the music of an un- 
kempt fiddler who pranced in their 
lead. 

Occasionally they would burst into 
powerful, chesty song — plaintive folk- 
strains about the goodliness of hus- 
bandry or of the lusty sons that come 
to cheer declining years. 

The women of the cortege either 
rode bareback, astraddle of the shaggy 
ponies, or sat up very prim and stiff in 



unaccustomed bodice lacings in the 
bullock-carts. 

Vera sat deep in the straw-bedded 
bottom of one of these with her 
mother, her two buxom sisters, and 
cousin Olga from Obtrusk, while 
Tomasz walked steadily alongside, his 
one hand on the edge of the cart and 
his eyes fixed on those of his betrothed. 

When their glances met, rosy blood 
would suffuse the girl's face and neck 
and tingle down to her finger-tips. Her 
heart beat fast and irregularly through- 
out that long, jolting ride. 

All Scurocz turned out to welcome 
the bridal party with huzzas and the 
throwing of millet seeds, which is ac- 
counted a propitious thing in those 
parts. 

Decrepit Father Ivan met them, 
watery-eyed and vacuous-faced, in the 
doorway of the weatherbeaten little 
church. 

As they passed — two by two, each 
man ahold of his woman's hand — be- 
neath the dingy gilt Greek cross above 
the doorway, all bobbed their heads and 
took on a solemn expression of face. 

High mass was celebrated, and the 
formuke gone through that made one 
flesh of man and maid, even as the 
patriarchs had decreed those things 
centuries ago in the days of the great 
schism. 

The names of Tomasz and of Vera, 
his wife, were laboriously inscribed 
upon the parish register, and Father 
Ivan blessed them with the fervor of 
one to whom much largess had been 
promised. 

With the drone of the benediction 
in her ears and the ecstatic grip of her 
husband's fingers on her hand, Vera's 
thoughts strayed out over the eddies 
of candle-smoke on the altar and the 
bowed heads of her kneeling relatives. 

" A dream — they assured me that it 
was all but a dream," she kept telling 
herself. "Ave Maria. Ave Maria. 
Yes, yes, it must have been a dream." 

The wild music of the fiddler broke 
out again beyond the doorway; feet 
shuffled as the assemblage got stiffly on 



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THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



its feet and made slow progress out of 
the interior gloom into the shimmer of 
morning sunlight on the green fields. 

Tomasz plucked at Vera's arm half 
timidly: half with a sense of the new 
proprietorship that was his. They, too, 
passed out of the church and stood 
blinking in the light with their friends. 

" My wife! " said Tomasz choking- 
ly, and drew her to him with strong 
arms that quivered. 

Vera gave herself submissively to 
his will — felt how his lips strained to 
suffocation upon hers. 

A cry suddenly burst from her and 
she tore herself loose from his hold. 
One hand she pressed instinctively to 
her heaving bosom, and the other went 



to her throat, bare above the open collar 
of her blouse. 

Something felt cold and hard against 
her warm flesh beneath the pressure 
of her fingers — something, the chill of 
which sent a tremor through her. 

Her fingers closed round the object 
and she pulled it forth covertly as far 
as the gold chain attaching it to her 
neck would allow. 

Her hands held an old-fashioned 
locket in which reposed a painted 
miniature. 

Dully, as if far away, but still echo- 
ing through the caverns of memory, she 
seemed to hear said : 

"Keep it! It is the most precious 
thing I possess." 




£u Edgar Rice Burroughs 

& ft Sequel to "Under the Moons of Mars" 
' * ToAe. Gods of Mars" 



CHAPTER I. 

ON THE RIVER ISS. 

WX the shadows of the forest that 
§ Hanks the crimson plain by the side 
* of the Lost Sea of Korus in the 
Valley Dor, beneath the hurtling moons 
of Mars, speeding their meteoric way 
close above the bosom of the dying 
planet. I crept stealthily along the trail 
of a shadowy form that hugged the 
darker places with a consistency that 
proclaimed the sinister nature of its 
errand. 



For six long Martian months I had 
haunted the vicinity of the hateful 
Temple of the Sun, within whose slow- 
revolving shaft, far beneath the sur- 
face of Mars, my princess lay en- 
tombed — but whether alive or dead I 
knew not. Had Phaidor's slim blade 
found that beloved heart? Time only 
would reveal the truth. 

Six hundred and eighty-seven Mar- 
tian days must come and go before the 
cell's door would again come opposite 
the tunnel's end where last I had seen 
my ever-beautiful Dejah Thoris. 



WARLORD OF MARS. 



847 



Half of them had passed, or would 
on the morrow, yet vivid in my mem- 
ory, obliterating every event that had 
come before or after, there remained 
the last scene before the gust of smoke 
blinded my eyes and the narrow slit 
that had given me sight of the interior 
of her cell closed between me and the 
Princess of Helium for a long Martian 
year. 

As if it were yesterday, T still saw 
the beautiful face of Phaidor, daugh- 
ter of Matai Shang, distorted with 
jealous rage and hatred as she sprang 
forward with raised dagger upon the 
woman I loved. 

I saw the red girl, Thuvia of Ptarth, 
leap forward to prevent the hideous 
deed. 

The smoke from the burning temple 
had come then to blot out the tragedy, 
but in my ears rang the single shriek 
as the knife fell. Then silence, and 
when the smoke had cleared the re- 
volving temple had shut oft" all sight 
or sound from the chamber in which 
the three beautiful women were im- 
prisoned. 

Much there had been to occupy my 
attention since that terrible moment ; 
but never for an instant had the mem- 
ory of the thing faded, and all the 
time that I could spare from the nu- 
merous duties that had devolved upon 
me in the reconstruction of the gov- 
ernment of the First Born since our 
victorious fleet and land forces had 
overwhelmed them, had been spent 
close to the grim shaft that held the 
mother of my boy, Carthoris of 
Helium. 

The race of blacks that for ages had 
worshiped Issus, the false deity of 
Mars, had been left in a state of chaos 
by my revealmeut of her as naught 
more than a wicked old woman. In 
their rage they had torn her to pieces. 

From the high pinnacle of their 
egotism the First Born had been 
plunged to the depths of humiliation. 
Their deity was gone, and with her the 
whole false fabric of their religion. 
Their vaunted navy had fallen in de- 



feat before the superior ships and 
lighting men of the red men of Helium. 

Fierce green warriors from the 
ocher sea-bottoms of outer Mars had 
ridden their wild thoats across the sa- 
cred gardens of the Temple of Issus, 
and Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of. Thark, 
fiercest of them all, had sat upon the 
throne of Issus and ruled the First 
Born while the allies were deciding the 
conquered nation's fate. 

Almost unanimous was the request 
that I ascend the ancient throne of the 
black men, even the First Born them- 
selves concurring in it; but I would 
have none of it. My heart could never 
be with the race that had heaped in- 
dignities upon my princess and my son. 

At my suggestion Xodar became 
Jeddak of the First Born. He had 
been a dator, or prince, until Issus had 
degraded him, so that his fitness for 
the high office was unquestioned. 

The peace of the Valley Dor thus 
assured, the green warriors dispersed 
to their desolate sea - bottoms, while 
we of Helium returned to our own 
country. Here again was a throne of- 
fered me, since no word had been re- 
ceived from the missing Jeddak of 
Helium, Tardos Mors, grandfather of 
Dejah Thoris, or his son, Mors Kajak, 
Jed of Helium, her father. 

Over a year had elapsed since they 
had set out to explore the northern 
hemisphere in search of Carthoris, and 
at last their disheartened people had 
accepted as truth the vague rumors of 
their death that had filtered in from 
the frozen region of the pole. 

Once again I refused a throne, for 
I would not believe that the mighty 
Tardos Mors or his no less redoubt- 
able son was dead. 

" Let one of their own blood rule 
you until they return." I said to the 
assembled nobles of . Helium, as I ad- 
dressed them from the pedestal of 
truth beside the throne of righteous- 
ness in the Temple of Reward, from 
the very%)Ot where I had stood a year 
before when Zat Arras pronounced the 
sentence of death upon me. 



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THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



. 848 

As I spoke I stepped forward and 
laid my hand upon the shoulder of 
Carthoris where he stood in the front 
rank of the circle of nobles about me. 

As one, the nobles and the people 
lifted their voices in a long cheer of 
approbation. Ten thousand swords 
sprang on high from as many scab- 
bards, and the glorious fighting men 
of ancient Helium hailed Carthoris 
Jeddak of Helium. 

His tenure of office was to be for 
life or until his great-grandfather, or 
grandfather, should return. Having 
thus satisfactorily arranged this im- 
portant duty for Helium. I started the 
following day for the Valley Dor that 
I might remain close to the Temple of 
the Sun until the fateful day that 
should see the opening of the prison- 
cell where my lost love lay buried. 

Hor Vastus and Kantos Kan, with 
my other noble lieutenants, I left with 
Carthoris at Helium, that he might 
have the benefit of their wisdom, 
bravery, and loyalty in the perform- 
ance of the arduous duties which had 
devolved upon him. Only Woola, my 
Martian hound, accompanied me. 

At my heels to-night the faithful 
beast moved softly in my tracks. As 
large as a Shetland pony, with hideous 
head and frightful fangs, he was in- 
deed an awesome spectacle as he crept 
after me on his ten short, muscular 
legs ; but to me he was the embodiment 
of love and royalty. 

The figure ahead was that of the 
black dator of the First Born, Thurid, 
whose undying enmity I had earned 
that time 1 laid him low with my 
bare hands in the courtyard of the 
Temple of Issus, and bound him with 
his own harness before the noble men 
and women who had but a moment 
before been extolling his prowess. 

Like many of his fellows, he had 
apparently accepted the new order of 
things with good grace, and had sworn 
fealty to Xodar, his new rujer; but I 
knew that he hated me. and 1 was sure 
that in his heart he envied and hated 
Xodar, so I had kept a watch upon his 



comings and goings, to the end that I 
had become convinced that he was occu- 
pied with some manner of intrigue. 

Several times I had observed him 
leaving the walled city of the First 
Born after dark, taking his way out 
into the cruel and horrible Valley Dor, 
where no honest business could lead 
any man. 

To-night he moved quickly along the 
edge of the forest until well beyond 
sight or sound of the city, then he 
turtied across the crimson sward to- 
ward the shore of the Lost Sea of 
Korus. 

The rays of the nearer moon, swing- 
ing low across the valley, touched his 
jewel - incrusted harness with a thou- 
sand changing lights and glanced from 
the glossy ebony of his smooth hide. 
Twice he turned his head back toward 
the forest, after the manner of one 
who is upon an evil errand, though he 
must have felt quite safe from pursuit. 

I did not dare follow him there be- 
neath the moonlight, since it best suit- 
ed my plans not to interrupt his — I 
wished him to reach his destination un- 
suspecting, that I might learn just 
where that destination lay and the 
business that awaited the night prowler 
there. 

So it was that I remained hidden 
until after Thurid had disappeared 
over the edge of the steep bank beside 
the sea a quarter of a mile away. Then, 
with Woola following, I hastened 
across the open after the black dator. 

The quiet of the tomb lay upon the 
mysterious valley of death, crouching 
deep in its warm nest within the 
sunken area at the south pole of the 
dying planet. In the far distance the 
Golden Cliffs raised their mighty bar- 
rier faces far into the starlit heaivens, 
the precious metals and scintillating 
jewels that composed them sparkling 
in the brilliant light of Mars's two 
gorgeous moons. 

At my back was the mighty forest, 
pruned and trimmed like the sward to 
parklike symmetry by the browsing of 
the ghoulish plant men. 



WARLORD OF MARS. 



849 



Before me lay the Lost Sea of 
KoruS, while farther on I caught the 
shimmering- ribbon of Iss, the River 
of Mystery, where it wound out from 
beneath the Golden Cliffs to empty 
into the Lost Sea of Korus, to which 
for countless ages had been borne the 
deluded and unhappy Martians of the 
outer world upon the voluntary pil- 
grimage to this false heaven. 

The plant men, with their blood- 
sucking hands, and the monstrous 
white apes that make Dor hideous by 
day. were hidden in their lairs for the 
night. 

There was no longer a Holy Thern 
upon the balcony in the Golden Cliffs 
above the Iss to summon them with 
weird cry to the victims floating down 
to their maws upon the cold, broad 
bosom of ancient Iss. 

The navies of Helium and the First 
Born had cleared the fortresses and the 
temples of .-the thcrns when they had 
refused to ' surrender and accept the 
new order of things that had swept 
their false religion from long-suffer- 
ing Mars. 

In a few isolated countries they still 
retained their age-old power :_, but 
Matai Shang, their hekkador, Father 
of Therns, had been driven from his 
temple. Strenuous had been our en- 
deavors to capture him; but with a 
few of the faithful he had escaped, 
and was in hiding — where we knew 
not. 

As I came cautiously to the edge of 
the low cliff overlooking the Lost Sea 
of Korus 1 saw Thurid pushing out 
upon the bosom of the shimmering 
water in a small skiff — one of those 
strangely wrought craft of unthink- 
able age which the Holy Therns, with 
their organization of priests and lesser 
therns. were wont to distribute along 
the banks of the Iss. that the long 
journey of their victims might be 
facilitated. 

Drawn up upon the beach below me 
were a score of similar boats, each with 
its long pole, at one end of which was 
a pike, at the other a paddle. Thurid 

.9 S 



Avas hugging the shore, and as he 
passed out of sight round a near-by 
promontory I shoved one of the boats 
into the water and. calling Woola into 
it, pushed out from shore. 

The pursuit of Thurid carried me 
along the edge of the sea toward the 
mouth of the Iss. The farther moon 
lay close to the horizon, casting a dense 
shadow beneath the cliffs that fringed 
the water. Thuria. the nearer moon, 
had set, nor would it rise again for 
near four hours, so that I was insured 
concealing darkness for that length of 
time at least. 

On and on went the black warrior. 
Now he was opposite the mouth of the 
Iss. Without an instant's hesitation 
he turned up the grim river, paddling 
hard again the strong current. 

After him came Woola and I, closer 
now, for the man was too intent upon 
forcing his craft up the river to have 
any eyes for what might be transpiring 
behind him. He hugged the shore, out 
of the main channel, where the current 
was less strong. 

Presently he came to the dark, cav- 
ernoife portal in the face of the Golden 
Cliffs, through which the river poured. 
On into the Stygian darkness beyond 
he urged his craft. 

It seemed hopeless to attempt to fol- 
low him here where I could not see my 
hand before my face, and I was almost 
on the point of giving up the pursuit 
and drifting back to the moiith of the 
river, there to. a wait his return, when 
a sudden bend showed a faint lumi- 
nosity ahead. 

My quarry was plainly visible again, 
and in the increasing light from the 
phosphorescent rock that lay embedded 
in great patches in the roughly arched 
roof of the cavern I had no difficulty 
in following him. 

It was my first trip upon the bosom 
of Iss, and the things I saw there will 
live forever in my memory. 

Terrible as they were, they could 
not have commenced to approximate 
the horrible conditions which must 
have obtained before Tars Tarkas, the 



850 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



great green warrior; Xodar, the black 
dator, and I brought the light of truth 
to the outer world and stopped the mad 
rush of millions upon the voluntary 
pilgrimage to what they believed would 
end in a beautiful valley of peace and 
happiness and love. 

Even now the low islands which 
clotted the broad stream were choked 
with the skeletons of those who. 
through fear or a sudden awakening 
to the truth, had halted almost at the 
completion of their journey. 

In the awful stench of these fright- 
ful charnel isles haggard maniacs 
screamed and gibbered and fought 
among the lorn remnants of their 
grisly feasts; while on those which 
contained but clean-picked bones they 
battled with one another, the weaker 
furnishing sustenance for the stronger; 
or with clawlike hands clutched at the 
bodies that drifted down with the 
current. 

Thurid paid not the slightest atten- 
tion to the screaming things that either 
menaced or pleaded with him as the 
mood directed them — evidently he was 
familiar with the horrid sights that 
surrounded him. He continued up the 
river for perhaps a mile; and then, 
crossing over to the left bank, drew 
his craft up on a low ledge that lay 
almost on a level with the water. 

I dared not follow across the stream, 
for he most surely would have seen 
me. Instead" I stopped close to the 
opposite wall beneath an overhanging 
mass of rock that cast a dense shadow 
beneath it. Here I could watch Thurid 
without danger of discovery. 

The black was standing upon the 
ledge beside his boat, looking up the 
river, as though he were awaiting one 
whi mi he expected from that direction. 

As I lay there beneath the dark rocks 
I noticed that a strong current seemed 
to flow directly toward the center of 
the riveff, so that it was difficult to 
hold my craft in its position. I edged 
farther into the shadow that I might 
find a hold upon the bank ; but, though 
I proceeded several yards, I touched 



nothing; and then, finding that I would 
soon reach a point from where I could 
no longer see the black man, I was 
compelled to remain where I was, 
holding my position as best I could by 
paddling strongly against the current 
which Howed from beneath the rocky 
mass behind me. 

I could not imagine what might 
cause this strong lateral flow, for the 
main channel of the river was plainly 
visible to me from where I sat, and I 
could see the rippling junction of it 
and the mysterious current which had 
aroused my curiosity. 

While I was still speculating upon 
the phenomenon my attention was sud- 
denly riveted upon Thurid, who had 
raised both palms forward above his 
head in the universal salute of 
Martians, and a moment later his 
"Kaor!" the Barsoomian word of 
greeting, came in low but distinct 
tones. 

I turned my eyes up the river in the 
direction that his were bent, and"pres- 
ently there came within my limited 
range of vision a long boat, in which 
were six men. Five were at the pad- 
dles, while the sixth sat in the seat of 
honor at the bow. 

The white skins, the flowing yellow 
wigs which covered their bald pates, 
and the gorgeous diadems set in cir- 
clets of gold about their heads marked 
them as Holy Therns. 

As they drew up beside the ledge 
upon which Thurid awaited them, lie 
in the bow of the boat arose to step 
ashore, and then 1 saw that it was none 
other than Matai Shang. Father of 
Therns. 

The evident cordiality with which 
the two men exchanged greetings filled 
me with wonder, for the black and 
white men of Barsoom were heredi- 
tary enemies — not ever before had I 
known of two meeting other than in 
battle. 

Evidently the reverses that had re- 
cently overtaken both peoples had re- 
sulted in an alliance between these two 
individuals — at least against the com- 



WARLORD 

mon enemy — and now I saw why 
Thurid had come so often out into the 
Valley Dor by night, and that the na- 
ture of his conspiring might be such 
as to strike close to me or my friends. 

I wished that I might have found 
a point closer to the two men from 
which to have heard their conversa- 
tion ; but it was out of the question 
now to attempt to cross the river, and 
so I lay quietly watching them, who 
would have given so much to have 
known how close I lay to them, and 
how easily they might have overcome 
and killed me with their superior force. 

Several times Thurid pointed across 
the river in my direction, but that his 
gestures had any reference to me I did 
not for a moment believe. Presently 
he and Matai Shang entered the lat- 
ter 's boat, which turned out into the 
river and, swinging round, forged 
steadily across in my direction. 

As they advanced I moved my boat 
farther and farther in beneath the 
overhanging wall, but at last it became 
evident thai: their craft was holding 
the same course. The five paddlers 
sent the larger boat ahead at a speed 
that taxed my energies to equal. 

Every instant I expected to feel my 
prow crash against solid rock. The 
light from the river was no longer visi- 
ble, but ahead I saw the faint tinge of 
a distant radiance, and still the water 
before me was open. 

At last the truth dawned upon me — 
T was following a subterranean river 
which emptied into the Iss at the very 
point where I had hidden. 

The rowers were now quite close to 
me. The noise of their own paddles 
drowned the sound of mine, but in an- 
other instant the growing light ahead 
would reveal me to them. 

There was no time to be lost. What- 
ever action I was to take must be taken 
at once. Swinging the prow of my 
boat toward the right, I sought the 
river's rocky side, and there I lay while 
Matai Shang and Thurid approached 
up the center of the stream, which was 
much narrower than the Iss. 



OF MARS. 851 

As they came nearer I heard the 
voices of Thurid and the Father of 
Therns raised in argument. 

" I tell' you, thern," the black dator 
was saying, " that I wish only venge- 
ance upon John Carter, Prince of 
Helium. I am leading you into no 
trap. What could I gain by betraying 
you to those who have ruined my na- 
tion and my house? " 

" Let us stop here a moment that 
I may hear your plans/' replied the 
hekkador. " and then we may proceed 
with a better understanding of our 
duties and obligations." 

To the rowers he issued the com- 
mand that brought their boat in toward 
the bank not a dozen paces beyond the 
spot where I lay. 

Had they pulled in below me they 
must surely have seen me against the 
faint glow of light ahead, but from 
where they finally came to rest I was 
as secure from detection as though 
miles separated us. 

The few words I had already over- 
heard whetted my curiosity, and I was 
anxious to learn what manner of 
vengeance Thurid was planning against 
me. Nor had I long to wait. I listened 
intently. 

" There are no obligations. Father 
of Therns," continued the First Born. 
" Thurid, Dator of Issus, has no price. 
When the thing has been accomplished 
I shall be glad if you will see to it that 
I am well received, as is befitting my 
ancient lineage and noble rank, at some 
court that is yet loyal to thy ancient 
faith, for I cannot return to the Val- 
ley Dor or elsewhere within the power 
of the Prince of Helium ; but even that 
I do not demand — it shall be as your 
own desire in the matter directs." 

" It shall be as.you wish, dator," re- 
plied Matai Shang: "nor is that all — 
power and riches shall be yours if you 
restore my daughter, Phaidor, to me, 
and place within my power Dejah 
Thoris, Princess of Helium. 

Ah," he continued with a ma- 
licious snarl ; " but the earth-man shall 
suffer for the indignities he has put 



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upon the holy of holies, nor shall any 
vileness be too vile to inflict upon his 
princess. Would that it were in my 
power to force him to Avitness the hu- 
miliation and degradation of the red 
woman." 

" You shall have your way with her 
before another day has passed. Matai 
Shang," said Thurid, " if you but say 
the word.*' 

" I have heard of the Temple of the 
Sun. dator,"' replied Matai Shang. 
■ but never have I heard that its pris- 
oners could be released before the al- 
lotted year of their incarceration had 
elapsed. How, then, may you accom- 
plish the impossible?" 

" Access may be had to any cell of 
the temple at any time," replied Thu- 
rid. " Only Issus knew this; nor was 
it ever dssus's way to divulge more of 
her secrets than were necessary. By 
chance, after her death, I came upon 
an ancient plan of the temple, and 
there I found, plainly writ, the most 
minute directions for reaching the 
cells at any time. 

" And more I learned — that many 
men had gone thither for Issus in the 
past, always on errands of death and 
torture to the prisoners ; but those who 
thus learned the secret way were wont 
to die mysteriously immediately they 
had returned and made their reports 
to Issus." 

" Let us proceed, then," said Matai 
Shang at last. " I must trust you, yet 
at the same time you must trust me, 
for we are six to your one." 

" I do not fear.'* replied Thurid, 
" nor need you. Our hatred of the 
common enemy is sufficient bond to in- 
sure our loyalty to one another, and 
after we have defiled the Princess of 
Helium there will be, still greater rea- 
son for the maintenance of our alle- 
giance — unless I greatly mistake the 
temper of her lord." 

Matai Shang spoke to the paddlers. 
The boat moved on up the tributary. 

It was with difficulty that 'I re- 
strained myself from rushing upon 
them and slaying the two vile plotters ; 



but quickly I saw the mad rashness of 
such an act, which would cut down the 
only man who could lead the way to 
Dejah Thoris's prison before the long 
Martian year had swung its intermi- 
nable circle. 

If he should lead Matai Shang to 
that hallowed spot, then, too, should 
he lead John Carter, Prince of Helium. 

With silent paddle I swung slowly 
into the wake of the larger craft. 



CHAPTER II. 

UNDER THE MOUNTAINS. 

As we advanced up the river which 
winds beneath the Golden Cliffs out of 
the bowels of the Mountains of Otz to 
mingle its dark waters with the grim 
and mysterious Iss the faint glow 
which had appeared before us grew 
gradually into an all-enveloping radi- 
ance. 

The river widened until it presented 
the aspect of a large lake whose vault- 
ed dome, lighted by glowing phosphor- 
escent rock, was splashed with the 
vivid rays of the diamond, the sap- 
phire, the ruby, and the countless, 
nameless jewels of Barsoom which lay 
incrusted in the virgin gold which 
forms the major portion of these mag- 
nificent cliffs. 

Beyond the lighted chamber of the 
lake was darkness — what lay behind 
the darkness I could not even guess. 

To have followed the thern-boat 
across the gleaming water would have 
been to invite instant detection, and so, 
though I was loath to permit Thurid 
to pass even for an instant beyond my 
sight, I was forced to wait in the 
shadows until the other boat had 
passed from my sight at the far ex- 
tremity of the lake. Then I paddled 
out upon the brilliant surface in the 
direction they had taken. 

When, after what seemed an eter- 
nity, I reached the shadows at the up- 
per end of the lake I found that the 
river issued from a low aperture, to 
pass beneath which it was necessary 



WARLORD OF MARS. - 853 



that I compel Woola to lie flat in the 
boat, and I. myself, must need bend 
double before the low roof cleared my 
head. 

Immediately the roof rose again 
upon the other side, but no longer was 
the -way brilliantly lighted. Instead 
only a feeble glow emanated from 
small and scattered patches of phos- 
phorescent rock in wall and roof. 

Directly before me the river ran 
into this smaller chamber through 
three separate arched openings. 

Thurid and the therns were no- 
where to be seen — into which of the 
dark holes had the}' disappeared ? 
There was no means by which I might 
know, and so I chose the center open- 
ing as being as likely to lead me in the 
right direction as another. 

Here the way was through utter 
darkness. The stream was narrow — 
so narrow that in (he blackness I was 
constantly bumping first one rocky 
wall and then another as the river 
wound hither and thither along its 
flinty bed. 

Far ahead I presently heard a deep 
and sullen roar which increased in vol- 
ume as I advanced, and then 1 in ike 
upon my ears with all the intensity of 
its mad fury as I swung round a sharp 
curve into a dimly lighted stretch of 
water. 

Directly before me the river thun- 
dered down from above in a mighty 
waterfall that filled the narrow gorge 
from side to side, rising far above me 
several hundred feet — as magnificent 
a spectacle as I had ever seen. 

But the roar — the awful, deafening 
roar of those tumbling waters penned 
in the rocky, subterranean vault ! 
Had the fall not entirely blocked 
my further passage and shown me 
that I had followed the wrong course 
I believe that I should have fled any 
way before the maddening tumult. 

Thurid and the therns could not 
have come this way. By stumbling 
upon the wrong course I had lost the 
trail, and they had gained so much 
ahead of me that now I might not be 



able to find them before it was too late, 
if, in fact, I could find them at all. 

It had taken several hours to force 
my way up to the falls against the 
strong current, and other hours would 
be required for the descent, although 
the pace would be much swifter. 

With a sigh I turned the prow of 
my craft down - stream, and with 
mighty strokes hastened with reckless 
speed through the dark and tortuous 
channel until once again I came to the 
chamber into which flowed the three 
branches of the river. 

Two unexplored channels still re- 
mained from which to choose : nor was 
there any means by which I could 
judge which was the more likely to 
lead me to the plotters. 

Never in my life., that I can recall, 
have I suffered such an agony of in- 
decision. So much depended upon a 
correct choice. So much depended 
upon haste. 

The hours that I had already lost 
might seal the fate of the incompara- 
ble Dejah Thoris were she not already 
dead — to sacrifice other hours, and 
maybe clays in a fruitless exploration 
of another blind lead would unques- 
tionably prove fatal. 

Several times I essayed the right- 
hand entrance only to turn back as 
though warned by some strange intui- 
tive sense that this was not the way. 
At last, convinced by the oft-recurring 
phenomenon, I cast my all upon the 
left-hand archway; yet it was with a 
lingering doubt that I turned a part- 
ing look at the sullen waters which 
rolled, dark and forbidding, from be- 
neath the low archway on the right. 

And as I looked there came bobbing 
out upon the current from the Stygian 
darkness of the interior the shell of 
one of the great, succulent fruits of 
the sorapus-tree. 

I could scarce restrain a shout of 
elation as this silent, insensate mes- 
senger floated past me, on toward the 
Iss and Korus, for it told me that 
journeying Martians were above me 
on that very stream. 



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They had eaten of this marvelous 
fruit which nature concentrates within 
the hard shell of the sorapus nut, and 
having eaten had cast the husk over- 
hoard. It could have come from no 
others than the party I sought. 

Quickly I abandoned all thought of 
the left-hand passage, and a moment 
later had turned into the right. The 
IStream soon widened, and recurring 
areas of phosphorescent rock lighted 
my way. 

I made good time, but was con- 
vinced that I was nearly a day behind 
those I was tracking. Neither Woola 
nor I had eaten since the previous day, 
but in so far as he was concerned it 
mattered but little, since practically all 
the animals of the dead sea bottoms of 
Mars are able to go for incredible 
periods without either food or water. 

Nor did I suffer. The water of the 
river was sweet and cold, for it was 
unpolluted by decaying bodies — unlike 
the Iss — and as for food, why the 
mere thought that I was nearing my 
beloved princess raised me above every 
material want. 

As I proceeded the river became 
narrower and the current swift and 
turbulent — so swift in fact that it was 
with difficulty that I forced my craft 
upward at all. I could not have been 
making to exceed a hundred yards an 
hour when, at a bend, I was confront- 
ed by a series of rapids through which 
the river foamed and boiled at a ter- 
rific rate. 

My heart sank within me. The so- 
rapus-nut shell had proved a false 
prophet, and, after all, my intuition 
had been correct — it was the left-hand 
channel that I should have followed. 

Had I been a woman I should have 
wept. At my right was a great, slow- 
moving eddy that circled far beneath 
the cliff's overhanging side, and to 
rest my tired muscles before turning 
back I let my boat drift into its em- 
brace. 

I was almost prostrated by disap- 
pointment. It would mean another 
half-day's loss of time to retrace my 



way and take the only passage that yet 
remained unexplored. What fate had 
led mc to select from three possible 
avenues the two that were wrong? 

As the lazy current of the eddy car- 
ried me slowly about the periphery of 
the watery circle my boat twice 
touched the rocky side of the river in 
the dark recess beneath the cliff. A 1 
third time it struck, gently as it had 
before, but the contact resulted in a 
different sound — the sound of wood 
scraping upon wood. 

In an instant I was on the alert, for 
there could be no wood within that 
buried river that had not been man 
brought. Almost coincidently with 
my first apprehension of the noise my 
hand shot out across the boat's side, 
and a second later I felt my fingers 
gripping the gunwale of another craft. 

As though turned to stone I sat in 
tense and rigid silence, straining my 
eyes into the utter darkness before me 
in an effort to discover if the boat were 
occupied. 

It was entirely possible that there 
might be men on board it who were 
still ignorant of my presence, for the 
boat was scraping gently against the 
nicks upon one side, so that the gentle 
touch of my boat upon the other easily 
could have gone unnoticed. 

Peer as I would 1 could not pene- 
trate the darkness, and then I listened 
intently for the sound of breathing 
near me : but except for the noise of 
the rapids, the soft scraping of the 
boats, and the lapping of the water at 
their sides I could distinguish no 
sound. 

A rope la3 r coiled in the bottom of 
my own craft. Very softly I gathered 
it up, and making one end fast to the 
bronze ring in the prow I stepped gin- 
gerly into the boat beside me. In one 
hand I grasped the rope, in the other 
my keen long-sword. 

For a full minute, perhaps, I stood 
motionless after entering the strange 
craft. It had rocked a trifle beneath 
my weight, but it had been the scra- 
ping of its side against the side of my 



WARLORD 

own boat that had seemed most likely 
to alarm its occupants, if there were 
any. 

But there was no answering sound, 
and a moment later I had felt from 
stem to stern and found the boat de- 
serted. 

Groping with my hands along the 
face of the rocks to which the craft 
was moored, il discovered a narrow 
ledge which I knew must be the avenue 
taken by those who had come before 
me. That they could be none other 
than Thurid* and his party I was con- 
vinced by the size and build of the boat 
I had found. 

Calling to Woola to follow me I 
stepped out upon the ledge. The 
great, savage brute, agile as a cat, crept 
after me. 

As he passed through the boat that 
had been occupied by Thurid and the 
therns he emitted a single low growl, 
and when he came beside me upon the 
ledge and my hand rested upon his neck 
I felt his short mane bristling with 
anger. I think he sensed telepathical- 
ly the recent presence of an enemy, for 
I had made no effort to impart to him 
the nature of our quest or the status 
of those we tracked. 

This omission I now made haste to 
correct, and, after the manner of green 
Martians with their beasts, I let him 
know partially by the weird and un- 
canny telepathy of Barsoom and part- 
ly by word of mouth that we were 
upon the trail of those who had re- 
cently occupied the boat through which 
we had just passed. 

A soft purr, like that of a great cat, 
indicated that Woola understood, and 
then, with a word to him to follow, I 
turned to the right along the ledge, but 
scarcely had I done so than I felt his 
mighty fangs tugging at my leathern 
harness. 

As I turned to discover the cause of 
his act he continued to pull me steadi- 
ly in the opposite direction, nor would 
he desist until I had turned about and 
indicated that I would follow him vol- 
untarily. 



OF MARS. 855 

Never had I known him to be in 
error in a matter of tracking, so it 
was with a feeling of entire security 
that I moved cautiously in the huge 
beast's wake. Through Cimmerian 
darkness he moved along the narrow 
ledge beside the boiling rapids. 

As we advanced the way led from 
beneath the overhanging cliffs out into 
a dim light, and then it was that I saw 
that the trail had been cut from the 
living rock, and that it ran up along 
the river's side beyond the rapids. 

For hours we followed the dark and 
gloomy river further and further into 
the bowels of Mars. From the direc- 
tion and distance I knew that we must 
be well beneath the Valley Dor, and 
possibly beneath the Sea of Omean as 
well — it could not be much further 
now to the Temple of the Sun. 

Even as my mind framed the 
thought Woola halted suddenly before 
a narrow, arched doorway in the cliff 
by the trail's side. Quickly he crouched 
back away from the entrance, at the 
same time turning his eyes toward me. 

Words could not have more plainly 
told me that danger of some sort lay 
near by. and so I pressed quietly for- 
ward to his side, and passing him 
looked into the aperture at our right. 

Before me was a fair-sized chamber 
that, from its appointments, I knew 
must have at one time been a guard- 
room. There were racks for weapons, 
and slightly raised platforms for the 
sleeping silks and furs of the warriors, 
but now its only occupants were two 
of the therns who had been of the 
party with Thurid and Matai Shang. 

The men were in earnest conversa- 
tion, and from their tones it was 
apparent that they were entirely 
unaware that they had listeners. 

" I tell you," one of them was say- 
ing, " I do not trust the black one. 
There was no necessity for leaving us 
here to guard the way. Against what, 
pray, should we guard this long- for- 
gotten, abysmal path? It was but a 
ruse to divide our numbers. 

" He will have Matai Shang leave 



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others elsewhere on some pretext or 
another, and then at last he will fall 
upon us with his confederates and 
slay us all.'* 

" I helieve you, Lakor," replied the 
other. " there can never be aught else 
than deadly hatred between them and 
First Born. And what think you of 
the ridiculous matter of the light? 
■ Let the light shine with the intensity 
of three radium units for fifty tals, 
and for one zat let it shine with the 
intensity of one radium unit, and then 
for twenty-five tals with nine units.' 
Those were his very words, and to 
think that wise old Matai Shang 
should listen to such foolishness." 

" Indeed, it is silly." replied Lakor. 
" It will open nothing other than the 
way to a quick death for us all. He 
had to make some answer when Matai 
Shang asked him flatly what he should 
do when he came to the Temple of the 
Sun, and so he made his answer quick- 
ly from his imagination — I would 
•wager a hekkador's diadem that he 
could not now repeat it himself." 

" Let us not remain here longer, 
Lakor." spoke the other them. " Per- 
chance if we hasten after them we 
may come in time to rescue Matai 
Shang, and wreak our own vengeance 
upon the black dator. What say-you ?" 

" Never in a long life,"' answered 
Lakor, " have I disobeyed a single 
command of the Father of Therns. I 
shall stay here until I rot if he does 
not return to bid me elsewhere.'' 

Lakor's companion shook his head. 

" You are my superior.'' he said ; " I 
cannot do other than you sanction, 
though I still believe that we are fool- 
ish to remain." 

I. too, thought that they were fool- 
ish to remain, for I saw from Woola's 
actions that the trail led through the 
room where the two therns held guard. 
I had no reason to harbor any con- 
siderable love for this race of scli-dei- 
fied demons, yet I would have passed 
them by were it possible without mo- 
lesting them. 

It was worth trying anyway, for a 



fight might delay us considerably, or 
even put an end entirely to my search — ■ 
better men than I have gone down be- 
fore fighters of meaner ability than 
that possessed by the thern warriors. 

Signaling Woola to heel I stepped 
suddenly into the room before the two 
men. At sight of me their long- 
swords flashed from the harness at 
their sides, but I raised my hand in a 
gesture of restraint. 

" I seek Thurid. the black dator," I 
said. " My quarrel is with him, not 
with you. Let me pass then in peace, 
for if I mistake not he is as much your 
enemy as mine, and you can have no 
cause to protect him." 

They lowered their swords and La- 
kor spoke. 

" I know not whom you may be, 
with the white skin of a thern and the 
black hair of a red man; but were it 
only Thurid whose safety were at 
stake you might pass, and welcome, in 
so far as we be concerned. 

" Tell us who you be, and what mis- 
sion calls you to this unknown world 
beneath the Valley Dor, then maybe 
we can see our way to let you pass 
upon the errand which we should like 
to undertake would our orders per- 
mit." 

I was surprised that neither of them 
had recognized me, for I thought that 
I was quite sufficiently well known 
either by personal experience or repu- 
tation to every thern upon Barsoom as 
to make my identity immediately ap- 
parent in any part of the planet. (In 
fact, 1 was the only white man upon 
Mars whose hair was black and whose 
eyes were gray, with the exception of 
my son. Carthoris. 

To reveal my identity might be to 
precipitate an attack, for every thern 
upon Barsoom knew that to me they 
owed the fall of their age-old spiritual 
supremacy. On the other hand my 
reputation as a fighting man might be 
sufficient to pass me by these two were 
their livers not of the right complex- 
ion to welcome a battle to the death. 

To be quite candid I did not attempt 



WARLORD 

to delude myself with any such sophis- 
try, since I knew well that upon war- 
like Mars there are few cowards, and 
that every man, whether prince, priest 
or peasant, glories in deadly strife. 
And so I gripi>ed my long-sword the 
tighter as I replied to Lakor. 

" I believe that you will see the wis- 
dom of permitting me to pass unmo- 
lested." 1 said, " for it would avail you 
nothing to die uselessly in the rocky 
bowels of Barsoom merely to protect 
a hereditary enemy, such as Thurid, 
Dator of the First Born. 

" That you shall die should you 
elect to oppose me is evidenced by the 
moldering corpses of all the many 
great Barsoomian warriors who have 
gone down beneath this blade — I am 
John Carter. Prince of Helium. " 

For a moment that name seemed to 
paralyze the two men ; but only for a 
moment, and then the younger of them, 
with a vile name upon his lips, rushed 
toward me with ready sword. 

He had been standing a little behind 
his companion, Lakor, during our par- 
ley, and now, ere he could engage me. 
the older man grasped his harness and 
drew him back. 

" Hold on ! " commanded Lakor. 
" There will be plenty of time to fight 
if we find it wise to fight at all. There 
be good reasons why every thern upon 
Barsoom should yearn to spill the blood 
of the blasphemer, the sacrilegist: but 
let us mix wisdom with our righteous 
hate. The Prince of Helium is bound 
upon an errand which we ourselves, 
but a moment since, were wishing that 
we might undertake. 

" Let him go then and slay the black. 
When he returns we shall still be here 
to bar his way to the outer world, and 
thus we shall have rid ourselves of 
two enemies, nor have incurred the dis- 
pleasure of the Father of Therns." 

As he spoke I could not but note 
the crafty glint in his evil eyes, and 
while I saw the apparent logic of his 
reasoning I felt, subconsciously per- 
haps, that his words did but veil some 
sinister intent. The other then: turned 



OF MARS. 857 

toward- him in evident surprise, but 
when Lakor had whispered a few brief 
words into hkr ear he, too, drew back 
and nodded acquiescence to his supe- 
rior's suggestion. 

" Proceed, John Carter," said 
Lakor; " but know that if Thurid 
does not lay you low there will be 
those awaiting your return who will 
see that you never pass again into the 
sunlight of the upper world. Go!" 

During our conversation Woola had 
been growling and bristling close to 
airy side. Occasionally he would look 
up into my face with a low. pleading 
whine, as though begging for the word 
that would send him headlong at the 
bare throats before him. He, too, 
sensed the villainy behind the smooth 
words. 

Beyond the therns several doorways 
opened off the guard-room, and toward 
the one upon the extreme right Lakor 
motioned. 

" That way leads to Thurid," he 
said. 

But when I would have called Woola 
to follow me there the beast whined 
and held back, and at last ran quickly 
to the first opening at the left, where 
he stood emitting his coughing bark, 
as though urging ane to follow him 
upon the right way. 

1 turned a questioning look upon 
Lakor. 

" The brute is seldom wrong," I said, 
" and while I do aiot doubt your supe- 
rior knowledge, thern, I think that I 
shall do well to listen to the voice of 
instinct that is backed by love and loy- 
alty." 

As I spoke I smiled grimly that he 
might know without words that I dis- 
trusted him. 

" As you will." the fellow replied 
with a shrug. " In the end it shall be 
all the same." 

I turned aaid followed Woola into 
the left-hand passage, and though my 
back was toward any eneanies, any ears 
were on the alert ; yet T heard aio sound 
of pursuit. The passageway was dim- 
ly lighted by occasional radium bulbs 



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the universal lighting medium of Bar- 
soom. 

These same lamps may have been 
doing continuous duty in these subter- 
ranean chambers for ages, since they 
require no attention and are so com- 
pounded that they give off but the 
minutest portion of their substance in 
the generation of years of luminosity. 

We had proceeded for but a short 
distance when we commenced to pass 
the mouths of diverging corridors, but 
not once did Woola hesitate. It was 
at the opening to one of these corri- 
dors upon my right that I presently 
heard a sound that spoke more plainly 
to John Carter, fighting man. than 
could the words of my mother tongue 
— it was the clank of metal — the metal 
of a warrior's harness — and it came 
from a little distance up the corridor 
upon my right. 

Woola heard it. too, and like a flash 
he had wheeled and stood facing the 
threatened danger, his mane all abristle 
and all his rows of glistening fangs 
bared by snarling, bapkdrawn lips. 
With a gesture I silenced him, and to- 
gether we drew aside into another 
corridor a few paces farther on. 

Here Ave waited: nor did we have 
long to wait, for presently we saw the 
shadows of two men fall upon the 
floor of the main corridor athwart the 
doorway of our hiding - place. Very 
cautiously they were moving now — 
the accidental clank that had alarmed 
me was not repeated. 

Presently they came opposite" our 
station: nor was I surprised to see 
that the two were Laker and his com- 
panion of the guard-room. 

They walked very softly, and in the" 
right hand of each gleamed a keen 
long-sword. They halted quite close 
to the entrance to our retreat, whisper- 
ing to one another. 

" Can it be that we have distanced 
them already?" said Lakor. 

" Either that or the beast has led 
the man upon a wrong trail," replied 
the other, " for the way which we took 
is by far the shorter to this point — 



for him who k"nows it. John Carter 
would have found it a short road to 
death had he taken it as you suggested 
to him." 

"Yes," said Lakor; "no amount of 
fighting ability would have saved him 
from the pivoted flagstone. He surely 
would have stepped upon it. and by 
now, if the pit beneath it has a bottom, 
which Thurid denies, he should have 
been rapidly approaching it. Curses on 
that calot of his that warned him to- 
ward the safer avenue ! " 

" There be other dangers ahead of 
him, though," spoke Lakor's fellow, 
" which he may not so easily escape — 
should he succeed in escaping our two 
good swords. Consider, for example, 
what chance he will have, comine un- 
expcctedly into the chamber of — " 

I would have given much to have 
heard the balance of that conversation 
that I might have been warned of the 
perils of the way that lay ahead, but 
fate intervened, and just at the very in- 
stant of all other instants that I would 
not have elected to do it, I sneezed. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE TEMPLE OF THE SUN. 

There was nothing for it now other 
than to fight: nor did I have any ad- 
vantage as I sprang, sword in hand, 
into the corridor before the two therns, 
for my untimely sneeze had warned 
them of my presence and they were 
ready for me. 

There were n6 words, for they 
would have been a waste of breath. 
The very presence of the two pro- 
claimed their treachery. That they 
were following to fall upon me un- 
awares was all too plain, and they, of 
course, must have known that I under- 
stood their plan. 

In an instant I was engaged with 
both, and though I loathe the very 
name of them, I must in all fairness 
admit that they are mighty swordsmen ; 
and these two wjre no exception, un- 
less it were that they were even more 



WARLORD 

skilled and fearless than the average 
among their race. 

While it lasted it was indeed as 
joyous a conflict as I had ever expe- 
rienced. Twice at least I saved my 
breast from the mortal thrust of 
piercing steel only by the wondrous 
agility with which my earthly muscles 
endow me under the conditions of 
lesser gravity and air pressure upon 
Mars. 

Yet even so I came near to tasting 
death that day in the gloomy corridor 
beneath Mars's southern pole, for 
Lakor played a trick upon me that in 
all my experience of fighting upon two 
planets I had never before witnessed 
the like of. 

The other thern was engaging me at 
the time, and I was forcing him back 
— touching him here and there with 
my point until he was bleeding from a 
dozen wounds, yet not being able to 
penetrate his marvelous guard to reach 
a vulnerable spot for the brief instant 
that would have been sufficient to send 
him to his ancestors. 

It was then that Lakor quickly un- 
slung a belt from his harness, and as 
I stepped back to parry a wicked thrust 
he lashed one end of it about my left 
ankle so that it wound there for an 
instant, while he jerked suddenly upon 
the other end. throwing me heavily 
upon my back. 

Then, like leaping panthers, they 
were upon me; but they had reckoned 
without Woola. and before ever a blade 
touched me a roaring embodiment of a 
thousand demons hurtled above my 
prostrate form and my loyal Martian 
calot was upon them. 

Imagine, if you can. a huge grizzly 
with ten legs armed with mighty talons 
and an enormous froglike mouth split- 
ting his head form ear to ear. ex- 
posing three rows of long, white tusks. 
Then endow this creature of your im- 
agination with the agility and ferocity 
of a half-starved Bengal tiger and the 
strength of a span of bulls, and you 
will have some faint conception of 
Woola in action. 



OF MARS. 859 

Before I could call him off he had 
crushed Lakor into a jelly with a sin- 
gle blow of one mighty paw. and had 
literally torn the other thern to rib- 
bons ; yet when I spoke to him sharply 
he cowed sheepishly as though he had 
done a thing to deserve censure and 
chastisement. 

Never had I had the heart to punish 
Woola during the long years that had 
passed since that first day upon Mars 
when the green jed of the Tharks had 
placed him on guard over me, and I 
had won his love and loyalty from the 
cruel and loveless masters of his for- 
mer life, yet I believe that he would 
have submitted to any cruelty that I 
might have inflicted upon him, so won- 
drous was his affection for me. 

The diadem in the center of the 
circlet of gold upon the brow of Lakor 
proclaimed him a Holy Thern. while 
his companion, not thus adorned, was 
a lesser thern, though from his harness 
I gleaned that he had reached the Ninth 
Cycle, which is but one below that of 
the Holy Therns. 

As I stood for a moment looking 
at the gruesome havoc Woola had 
wrought there recurred to me the 
memory of that other occasion upon 
which I had masqueraded in the wig, 
diadem, and harness of Sator Throg. 
the Holy Them whom Thuvia of 
Ptarth had slain, and now it occurred 
to me that it might prove of worth 
to utilize Lakor's trappings for the 
same purpose. 

A moment later I had torn his yellow 
wig from his bald pate and transferred 
it and the circlet, as well as all his 
harness, to my own person. 

Woola did not approve of the meta- 
morphosis. He sniffed at me and 
growled ominously, but when I spoke 
to him and patted his huge head he at 
length became reconciled to the change, 
and at my command trotted off along 
the corridor in the direction we had 
been going when our progress had been 
interrupted by the therns. 

We moved cautiously now, warned 
by the fragment of conversation I had 



860 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



overheard. T kept abreast of Woola 
that we might have the benefit of all 
our eyes for what might appear sud- 
denly ahead to menace us. and well it 
was that we were forewarned. 
\ At the bottom of a flight of narrow 
steps the corridor turned sharply back 
upon itself, immediately making an- 
other turn in the original direction, so 
that at that point it formed a perfect 
letter S. the top leg of which debouched 
suddenly into a large chamber, illy 
lighted, and the floor of which was 
completely covered by venomous 
snakes and loathsome reptiles. 

To have attempted to cross that floor 
would have been to court instant death, 
and for a moment I was almost com- 
pletely discouraged. Then it occurred 
to me that Thurid and Matai Shang 
with their party must have crossed it, 
and so there was a way. 

Had it not been for the fortunate 
accident by which I overheard even so 
small portion of the therns* conver- 
sation we should have blundered at 
least a step or two into that wriggling 
mass of destruction, and a single step 
would have been all sufficient to have 
sealed our doom. 

These were the only reptiles I had 
ever seen upon Barsoom. but T knew 
from their similarity to the fossilized 
remains of supposedly extinct species 
I had seen in the museums of Helium 
that they comprised many of the known 
prehistoric reptilian genera, as well as 
others undiscovered. 

A more hideous aggregation of mon- 
sters had never before assailed my vi- 
sion. It would lie futile to attempt to 
describe them to earth-men. since sub- 
stance is the only thing which they pos- 
sess in common with any creature of the 
past or present with which you are fa- 
miliar — even their venom is of an un- 
earthly virulence that, by comparison, 
would' make the cobra-di-capello seem 
quite as harmless as an angleworm. 

As they spied me there was a con- 
certed rush by those nearest the en- 
trance where we stood, but a line of 
radium bulbs inset along the threshold 



of their chamber brought them to a 
sudden halt — evidently they dared not 
cross that line of light. 

I had been quite sure that they would 
not venture beyond the room in which 
I had discovered them, though I had 
not guessed at what, deterred them. 
The simple fact that we had found no 
reptiles in the corridor through which 
we had just come was sufficient assur- 
ance that they did not venture there. 

I drew Woola out of harm's way, 
and then began a careful survey of as 
much of the chamber of reptiles as I 
could see from where I stood. As my 
eyes became accustomed to the dim 
light of its interior I gradually made 
out a low gallery at the far end of the 
apartment from Avhich opened several 
exits. 

Coming as close to the threshold as 
I dared. I followed this gallery with 
my eyes, discovering that it circled the 
room as far as I could see. Then I 
glanced above me along the upper edge 
of the entrance to which Ave had come, 
and there, to my delight. I saw an end 
of the gallery not a foot above my 
head. In an instant I had leaped to it 
and called Woola after me. 

Here there were no reptiles — the 
way was clear to the opposite side of 
the hideous chamber — and a moment 
later Woola and I dropped down to 
safety in the corridor beyond. 

Not ten minutes later we came into 
a vast circular apartment of white mar- 
ble, the walls of which were inlaid with 
gold in the strange hieroglyphics of the 
First Born. 

From the high dome of this mighty 
apartment a huge circular column ex- 
tended to the floor, and as I watched I 
saw that it slowly revolved. 

I had reached the base of the Temple 
of the Sun! 

Somewhere above me lay Dejah 
Thoris. and with her were Phaidor, 
daughter of Matai Shang, and Thuvia 
of Ptarth. But how to reach them, 
now that I had found the only vulner- 
able spot in their mighty prison, was 
.still a baffling riddle. 



WARLORD 

Slowly I circled the great shaft, 
looking for a means of ingress. Part 
way around I found a tiny radium 
flash torch, and as I examined it in mild 
curiosity as to its presence there in this 
almost inaccessible and unknown spot, 
I came suddenly upon the insignia of 
the house of Thurid jewel-inset in its 
metal case. 

I am upon the right trail, I thought, 
as I slipped the bauble into the pocket- 
pouch which hung from my harness. 
Then I continued my search for the 
entrance, which T knew must be some- 
where about : nor had I long to search, 
for almost immediately thereafter I 
came upon a small door so cunningly 
inlaid in the shaft's base that it might 
have passed unnoticed by a less keen or 
careful observer. 

There was the door that would lead 
me within the prison, but where was the 
means to open it? No button or lock 
were visible. Again and again I went 
carefully over every square inch of its 
surface, but the most that I could find 
was a tiny pinhole a little above and 
to the right of the door's center — a pin- 
hole that seemed only an accident of 
manufacture or an imperfection of 
material. 

Into this minute aperture I attempted 
to peer, but whether it was but a frac- 
tion of an inch deep or passed complete- 
ly through the door I could not tell — 
at least no light showed beyond it. I 
put my ear to it next and listened, but 
again my efforts brought negligible re- 
sults. 

During these experiments \Yoola had 
been standing at my side gazing intent- 
ly at the door, and as my glance fell 
upon him it occurred to me to test the 
correctness of my hypothesis, that this 
portal had been the means of ingress to 
the temple used by Thurid and Matai 
Shang. 

Turning away abruptly. I called to 
him to follow me. For a moment he 
hesitated, and then leaped after me. 
whining and tugging at my harness to 
draw me back. I walked on. however, 
some distance from the door before I 



OF MARS. 861 

let him have his way, that I might see 
precisely what he would do. Then I 
permitted him to lead me wherever he 
would. 

Straight back to that baffling portal 
he dragged me, again taking up his po- 
sition facing the blank stone, gazing 
straight at its shining surface. For an 
hour I worked to solve the mystery of 
the combination that would open the 
way before me. 

Care fulh- I recalled every circum- 
stance of my pursuit of Thurid, and my 
conclusion was identical with my orig- 
inal belief — that Thurid had come this 
way without other assistance than his 
own knowledge and passed through the 
door that barred my progress unaided 
from within. But how had he accom- 
plished it? 

I recalled the incident of the cham- 
ber of mystery in the Golden Cliffs that 
time I had freed Thuvia of Ptarth from 
the dungeon of the therns. and she had 
taken a slender, needlelike key from the 
key-ring of her dead jailer to open the 
door leading back into the chamber of 
mystery where Tars Tarkas fought for 
his life with the great banths. Such a 
tiny keyhole as now defied me had 
opened the way to the intricate lock in 
that other door. 

Hastily I dumped the contents of my 
pocket-pouch upon the ground before 
me. Could T but find a slender bit of 
steel T might yet fashion a key that 
would give me ingress to the temple 
prison. 

As I examined the heterogeneous col- 
lection of odds and ends that is always 
to be found in the pocket-pouch of a 
Martian warrior my hand fell upon the 
emblazoned radium flash torch of the 
black dator. 

As I was about to lay the flash 
torch aside as of no value in my 
present predicament my eyes chanced 
upon a few characters roughlv and 
freshly scratched upon the soft gold 
of the case. 

Casual curiosity prompted me to de- 
cipher them, but what I read carried 
no immediate meaning to my mind. 



862 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



There were three sets of characters, 
one below another : 



50 T 
1 Z 
25 T 



For only an instant my curiosity was 
piqued, and then I replaced the torch 
in my pocket-pouch, but my fingers had 
not unclasped from about it when there 
rushed from my memory the recollec- 
tion of the conversation between Lakor 
and his companion when the lesser 
thern had quoted the words of Thnrid 
and scoffed at them : " And what 
think you of the ridiculous matter of 
the light? " " Let the light shine with 
the intensity of three radium units for 
fifty tals " — ah. there was the first line 
of characters upon the torch's metal 
case — 3 — 50 T : " and for one zat let 
it shine with the intensity of one ra- 
dium unit " — there was the second 
line ; " and then for twenty-five tals. 
nine units." 

The formula was complete : but — 
what did it mean? 

I thought I knew. and. seizing a 
powerful magni f ying-glass from the 
litter of my pocket-pouch. I applied 
myself to a careful examination of the 
marble immediately about the pinhole 
in the door. I could have cried aloud in 
exultation when my scrutiny disclosed 
the almost invisible incrustation of par- 
ticles of carbonized electrons which are 
thrown off by these Martian torches. 

It was evident that for countless 
ages radium torches had been applied 
to this pinhole, and for what purpose 
there could be but a single answer — 
the mechanism of the lock was actu- 
ated by light-rays; and I, John Carter, 
Prince of Helium, held the combination 
in my hand — scratched by the hand of 
my enemy upon his own torch-case. 

In a cylindrical bracelet of gold about 
my wrist was my Barsoomian chro- 
nometer — a delicate instrument that 
records the tals and zats and zodes of 
Martian time, presenting them to view 
beneath a strong crystal much after the 
manner of an earthly odometer. 



Timing my operations carefully, I 
held the torch to the small aperture in 
the door, regulating the intensity of the 
light by means of the thumb-lever upon 
the side of the case. 

For fifty tals I let three units of light 
shine full into the pinhole, then one 
unit for one zat, and for twenty-five 
tals nine units. Those last twenty-five 
tals were the longest twenty-five sec- 
onds of my life. Would the lock click 
at the end of those seemingly intermi- 
nable intervals of time? 

Twenty-three! Twenty-four \ Twen- 
ty-five ! 

I shut off the light with a snap. For 
seven tals I waited — there had been no 
appreciable effect upon the lock's 
mechanism. Could it be that my theory 
Avas entirely wrong? 

Hold! Had the nervous strain re- 
sulted in a hallucination, or did the door 
really move? Slowly the solid stone 
sank noiselessly back into the temple 
wall — there was no hallucination here. 

Rack and back it slid for ten feet 
until it had disclosed at its right a nar- 
row doorway leading into a dark and 
narrow corridor that paralleled the 
outer wall. Scarcely was the entrance 
uncovered than Woola and I had leaped 
through — then the door slipped quietly 
back into place. 

Down the corridor at some distance 
I saw the faint reflection of a light, 
and toward this we made our way. At 
the point where the light shone was a 
sharp turn, and a little distance beyond 
this a brilliantly lighted chamber. 

Here we discovered a spiral stair- 
way leading up from the center of the 
circular room. 

Immediately I knew that we had 
reached the center of the base of the 
Temple of the Sun — the spiral run- 
way led upward past the inner walls 
of the prison cells. Somewhere above 
me was Dejah Thoris, unless Thurid 
and Matai Shang had already succeed- 
ed in stealing her away. 

We had scarcely started up the run- 
way when Woola suddenly displayed 
the wildest excitement. He leaped 



WARLORD 

back and forth, snapping at my legs 
and harness, until I thought that he 
was mad, and finally when I pushed 
him from me and started once more 
to ascend he grasped my sword arm be- 
tween his jaws and dragged me back. 

No amount of scolding or cuffing 
would suffice to make him release me. 
and I was entirely at the mercy of his 
brute strength unless I cared to use 
my dagger upon him with my left 
hand; but, mad or no, I had not the 
heart to run the sharp blade into that 
faithful body. 

Down into the chamber he dragged 
me. and across it to the side opposite 
that at which we had entered. Here 
was another doorway leading into a 
corridor which ran directly down a 
steep incline. Without a moment's 
hesitation Woola jerked me along this 
rocky passage. 

Presently he stopped and released 
me, standing between me and the way 
we had come, looking up into my face 
as though to ask if I would now fol- 
low him voluntarily or if he must still 
resort to force. 

Looking ruefully at the marks of his 
great teeth upon my bare arm I de- 
cided to do as he seemed to wish me 
to do. After all, his strange instinct- 
might be more dependable than my 
faulty human judgment. 

And well it was that I had been 
forced to follow him. But a short dis- 
tance from the circular chamber we 
came suddenly into a brilliantly light- 
ed labyrinth of crystal glass partitioned 
passages. 

At first I thought it was one vast, 
unbroken chamber, so clear and trans- 
parent were the walls of the winding 
corridors, but after it had nearly 
brained myself a couple of times by 
attempting to pass through solid vit- 
rei nis wails 1 went more carefully. 

We had proceeded but a few yards 
along the corridor that had given us 
entrance to this strange maze when 
Woola gave mouth to a most frightful 
roar, at the same time dashing against 
the clear partition at our left. 



OF MARS. 863 

The resounding echoes of that fear- 
some cry were still reverberating 
through the suhterranean chambers 
when I saw the thing that had startled 
it from the faithful beast. 

Far in the distance, dimly through 
the many thicknesses of intervening 
crystal, as in a haze that made them 
seem unreal and ghostly. I discerned 
the figures of eight people — three fe- 
males and five men. 

At the same instant, evidently start- 
led by Woola's fierce cry, they halted 
and looked about. Then, of a sudden, 
one of them, a woman, held her arms 
out toward me, and even at that great 
distance I could see that her lips moved 
— it was Dejah Thoris, my ever beauti- 
ful and ever youthful Princess of He- 
lium. 

With her were Thuvia of Ptarth, 
Phaidor. daughter of Matai Shang, 
and Thurid, and the Father of Therns, 
and the three lesser therns that had ac- 
companied them. 

Thurid shook his fist at me, and then 
two of the therns grasped Dejah Tho- 
ris and Thuvia roughly by their arms 
and hurried them on. A moment later 
they had disappeared into a stone cor- 
ridor beyond the labyrinth of glass. 

They say that love is blind ; but so 
great a love as that of Dejah Thoris 
that knew me even beneath the thern 
disguise I wore and across the misty 
vista of that crystal maze must indeed 
he far from blind. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE SECRET TOWER. 

I HAVfi no stomach to narrate the 
monotonous events of the tedious days 
that Woola and I spent ferreting our 
way across the labyrinth of glass, 
through the dark and devious ways be- 
yond that led beneath the Valley Dor 
and Golden Cliffs to emerge at last 
upon the flank of the Otz Mountains 
just above the Valley of Lost Souls — 
that pitiful purgatory peopled by the 
poor unfortunates who dare not con- 



864 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



tinue their abandoned pilgrimage to 
Dor, or return to the various lands of 
the outer world from whence they 
came. 

Here the - trail of Dejah Thofis's ab- 
ductors led along the mountains' base, 
across steep and rugged ravines, by the 
side of appalling precipices, and some- 
times out into the valley, where we 
found fighting aplenty with the mem- 
bers of the various tribes that make up 
the population of this vale of hope- 
lessness. 

But through it all we came at last to 
where the way led up a narrow gorge 
that grew steeper and more impracti- 
cable at every step until before us 
loomed a mighty fortress buried be- 
neath the side of an overhanging cliff. 

Here was the secret hiding-place of 
Matai Shang. Father of Therns. Here, 
surrounded by a handful of the faith- 
ful, the hekkador of the ancient faith, 
who had once been served by millions 
of vassals and dependents, dispensed 
the spiritual word among the half 
dozen nations of Barsoom that still 
clung tenaciously to their false and 
discredited religion. 

Darkness was just falling as we 
came in sight of the seemingly im- 
pregnable walls of this mountain 
stronghold, and lest we be seen I drew 
back with Woola behind a jutting 
granite promontory, into a clump of 
the hardy, purple scrub that thrives 
upon the barren sides of Otz. 

Here we lay until the cjuick transi-, 
tion from daylight to darkness had 
passed. Then I crept out to approach' 
the fortress walls in search of a way 
within. 

Either through carelessness or over- 
confidence in the supposed inaccessi- 
bility of their hiding-place, the triple- 
barred gate stood ajar. Beyond were 
a handful of guards, laughing and 
talking over one of their incompre- 
hensible Barsoomian games. 

I saw that none of the guardsmen ' 
had been of the party that accom- 
panied Thurid and Matai Shang; and 
so, relying entirely upon my disguise, 



I walked boldly through the gateway 
and up to the thern guard. 

The men stopped their game and 
looked up at me. but there was no sur- 
prise upon their faces and no sign of 
suspicion. Similarly they looked at 
Woola, growling at my heel. 

"Kaor!" I said in true Martian 
greeting, and the warriors arose and 
saluted me. " I have but just found 
my way hither from the Golden Cliffs," 
I continued, " and seek audience with 
the hekkador. Matai Shang. Father of 
Therns. Where may he be found ? " 

" Follow me," said one of the guard, 
and. turning, led me across the outer 
courtyard toward a second buttressed 
wall. 

Why the apparent ease with which 
I seemingly deceived them did not 
rouse my suspicions I know not. unless 
it was that my mind was still so full 
of that fleeting glimpse of my beloved 
princess that there was room in it for 
naught else. Be that as it may, the 
fact is that I marched buoyantly be- 
hind my guide straight into the jaws 
of death. 

Afterward I learned that thern spies 
had been aware of my coming for 
hours before I reached the hidden 
fortress. 

The gate had been purposely left 
ajar to tempt me on. The guards had 
been schooled well in their part of the 
conspiracy; and I. more like a school- 
boy than a seasoned warrior, ran head- 
long into the trap. 

At Jhe far side of the outer court 
a narrow door let into the angle made 
by one of the buttresses with the wall. 
Here my guide produced a key and 
opened the way within ; then, stepping 
back, he motioned me to enter. 

'* Matai Shang is in the temple court 
beyond." he said ; and as Woola and I 
passed through the fellow closed the 
door quickly upon us. 

The nasty laugh that came to my 
ears through the heavy planking of the 
door after the lock clicked was my first 
intimation that all was not as it 
should be. 



WARLORD OF MARS. 



865 



I found myself in a small, circular 
chamber within the buttress. Before 
me a door opened, presumably, upon 
the inner court beyond. For a moment 
I hesitated, all my suspicions now sud- 
denly, though tardily, roused; then, 
with a shrug of my shoulders, I opened 
the door and stepped out into the glare 
of torches that lighted the inner court. 

Directly opposite me a massive tower 
rose to a height of three hundred feet. 
It was of the strangely beautiful mod- 
ern Barsoomian style < of architecture, 
its entire surface hand-carved in bold 
relief with intricate and fanciful de- 
signs. Thirty feet above the courtyard 
and overlooking it was a broad bal- 
cony, and there, indeed, was Matai 
Shang, and with him were Thurid and 
l'haidor, Thuvia, and Dejah Thoris — 
the last two heavily ironed. A hand- 
ful of them warriors stood just be- 
hind the little party. 

As 1 entered the enclosure the eyes 
of those in the balcony were full upon 
me. 

An u<rlv smile distorted the cruel 
lips of Matai Shang. Ihurid hurled 
a taunt at me and placed a f amilar hand 
upon the shoulder of my princess. Like 
a tigress she turned upon him, striking 
the beast a heavy blow with the man- 
acles upon her wrist. 

He would have struck back had no£ 
Matai Shang interfered, and then I saw 
that the two men were not overfriend- 
lv; for the manner of the thern was 
arrogant and domineering as he made 
it plain to the First Born that the Prin- 
cess of Helium was the personal prop- 
erty of the Father of Therns. And 
Thurid's bearing toward the ancient 
hekkador savored not at all of liking 
or respect. 

When the altercation in the balcony 
had subsided Matai Shang turned 
again to me. 

" Larthman," he cried, "you have 
earned a more ignoble death than now 
lies within our weakened power to in- 
flict upon you ; but that the death you 
die to-night may be doubly bitter, know 
you that when you have passed, your 
10 S 



widow becomes the wife of Matai 
Shang, hekkador of the Holy Therns, 
for a Martian year. 

"At the end of that time, as you 
know, she shall be discarded, as is the 
law among us, but not, as is usual, to 
lead a quiet and honored life as high 
priestess of some hallowed shrine. In- 
stead. Dejah Thoris, Princess of He- 
lium, shall become the plaything of my 
lieutenants — perhaps of thy most hated 
enemy, Thurid, the black dator." 

As he ceased speaking he awaited in 
silence evidently for some outbreak of 
rage upon my part — something that 
would have added to the spice of his 
revenge. But I did not give him the 
satisfaction that he craved. 

Instead, I did the one thing of all 
others that might rouse his anger and 
increase his hatred of me; for I knew 
that if I died De^ah Thoris, too, would 
find a way to die before they could 
heap further indignities upon her. 

Of all the holy of holies which the 
thern venerates and worships none is 
more revered than the yellow wig 
which covers his bald pate, and next 
thereto comes the circlet of gold and 
the great diadem, whose scintillant 
rays mark the attainment of the Tenth 
Cycle. 

And, knowing this, I removed the 
wig and circlet from my head, tossing 
them carelessly upon the flagging of 
the court. Then I wiped my feet upon 
the yellow tresses; and as a groan of 
rage arose from the balcony I spat full 
upon the holy diadem. 

Matai Shang went livid with anger, 
but upon the lips of Thurid I could see 
a grim smile of amusement, for to him 
these things were not holy; so, lest he 
should derive too much amusement 
from my act, I cried : " And thus did I 
with the holies of Issus, Goddess of 
Life Eternal, ere I threw Lssns herself 
to the mob that once had worshiped 
her, to be torn to pieces in her own 
temple." 

That' put an end to Thurid's grin- 
ning, for he had been high in the favor 
of Issus. 



866 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" Let us have an end to this blas- 
pheming! " he cried, turning' to the 
Father of Therns. 

Matai Shang rose and, leaning over 
the edge of the balcony, gave voice to 
the weird call that I had heard from 
the lips of the priests upon the tiny 
balcony upon the face of the Golden 
Cliffs overlooking the Valley Dor, 
when, in times past, they called the 
fearsome white apes and the hideous 
plantmen to the feast of victims float- 
ing down the broad bosom of the mys- 
terious Iss toward the silian-inl'ested 
waters of the Lost Sea of Korus. 

" Let loose the death ! he cried, and 
immediately a dozen doors in the base 
of the tower swung open, and a dozen 
grim and terrible banths sprang into 
the arena. 

This was not the first time that I had 
faced the ferocious -Barsoomian lion, 
but never had I been pitted, single- 
handed, against a full dozen of them. 
Even with the assistance of the fierce 
Woola, there could be but a single out- 
come to so unequal ;i struggle. 

F< >r a moment the beasts hesitated 
beneath the brilliant glare of the 
torches; but presently their eyes, be- 
coming accustomed to the light, fell 
Upon Woola and me, and with bristling 
manes and deep - throated roars they 
advanced, lashing their tawny sides 
with their powerful tails. 

In the brief interval of life that was 
left me I shot a last, parting glance to- 
ward my Dejah Thoris. Her beautiful 
face was set in an expression of horror; 
and as my eyes met hers she extended 
both arms toward me as, struggling 
with the guards who now held her. she 
endeavored to cast herself from the 
balcony into the pit beneath, that she 
might share my death with me. Then, 
as the banths were about to close upon 
me, she turned and buried her dear face 
in her arms. 

Suddenly my attention was drawn 
toward Thuvia of Ptarth. The beau- 
tiful girl was leaning far over the edge 
of the balcony, her eyes bright with 
excitement. 



In another instant the banths would 
be upon me. but I could not force my 
gaze from the features of the red girl, 
for I knew that her expression meant 
anything but the enjoyment of the grim 
tragedy that would so soon be enacted 
below her; there was some deeper, hid- 
den meaning which 1 sought to solve. 

For an instant I thought of relying 
on my earthly muscles and agility to 
escape the banths and reach the bal- 
cony, which I could easily have done, 
but I could not bring myself to desert 
the faithful Woola and leave him to 
die alone beneath the cruel fangs of 
the hungry banths; that is not the way 
upon Barsoom, nor was it ever the way 
of John Carter. 

Then the secret of Thuvia's excite- 
ment became apparent as from her lips 
there issued the purring sound I had 
heard once before ; that time that, with- 
in the Golden Cliffs, she called the 
fierce banths about her and led them 
as a shepherdess might lead her flock 
of meek and harmless sheep. 

At the first note of that soothing 
sound the banths halted in their tracks, 
and every fierce head went high as the 
beasts sought the origin of the familiar 
call. Presently they discovered the red 
girl in the balcony above them. and. 
turning, roared out their recognition 
and their greeting. 

Guards sprang to drag Thuvia away, 
but ere they had succeeded she had 
hurled a volley of commands at the 
listening brutes, and as one they turned 
and marched back into their dens. 

*' You need not fear them now. John 
Carter!" cried Thuvia. before they 
could silence her. " Those banths will 
never harm you now. nor Woola. 
either." 

It was all I cared to know. There 
was naught to keep me from that bal- 
cony now, and with a long, running 
leap I sprang far aloft until my hands 
grasped its lowest sill. 

In an instant all was wild confusion. 
Matai Shang shrank back. Thurid 
sprang forward with drawn sword to 
cut me down. 



"WARLORD 

Again Dojah Thoris wielded her 
heavy irons and fought him hack. 
Then Matai Shang grasped her ahout 
the waist and dragged her away 
through a door leading within the 
tower. 

For an instant Thurid hesitated, and 
then, as though fearing that the Father 
of Therns would escape him with the 
Princess of Helium, he, too, dashed 
from the balcony in their wake. 

Phaidor alone retained her presence 
of mind. Two of the guards she or- 
dered to hear away Thuvia of Ftarth ; 
the others she commanded to remain 
and prevent me from following. Then 
she turned toward me. 

" John Carter,'' she cried, " for the 
last time I offer you the love of 
Phaidor, daughter of the Holy Hek- 
kaclor. Accept and your princess shall 
he returned to the court of her grand- 
father, and you shall live in peace and 
happiness. Refuse and the fate that 
my father has threatened shall fall upon 
Dejah Tin iris. 

*" You cannot save her now, fur by 
this time they have reached a place 
where even you may not follow. Re- 
fuse and naught can save you ; for, 
though the way to the last stronghold 
of the Holy Therns was made easy for 
you, the way hence hath been made im- 
possible. What say you? " 

" You knew my answer, Phaidor, - ' 
I replied, *' before ever you spoke. 
Make way." I cried to the guards. " for 
John Carter. Prince of Helium, would 
pass ! " 

With that 1 leaped over the low bal- 
uster that surrounded the balcony, and 
with drawn long-sword faced my 
enemies. 

There were three of them; but 
Phaidor must have guessed what the 
outcome of the battle would be. for 
she turned and fled from the balcony 
the moment she saw that I would have 
none of her proposition. 

The three guardsmen did not wait for 
my attack. Instead, they rushed me — 
the three of them simultaneously; and 
it was that which gave me an advan- 



OF MARS. 867 

tage, for they fouled one another in 
the narrow precincts of the balcony, so 
that the foremost of them stumbled 
full upon my blade at the first on- 
slaught. 

The red stain upon my point roused 
to .its full the old blood-lust of the 
lighting man that has ever been so 
strong within my breast, so that my 
blade flew through the air with a swift- 
ness and deadly accuracy that threw 
the two remaining therns into wild 
despair. 

When at last the sharp steel found 
the heart of one of them the other 
turned to flee, and. guessing that his 
steps would lead him along the way 
taken by those 1 sought, I let him keep 
ever far enough ahead to think that 
he was safely escaping my sword. 

Through several inner chambers he 
raced until he came to a spiral runway. 
Up this he dashed, I in close pursuit. 
At the upper end we came out into a 
small chamber, the walls of which 
were blank except for a single window 
overlooking the slopes of Otz and the 
Valley of Lost Souls bevond. 

Here the fellow tore frantically at 
what appeared to be but a piece of the 
blank wall oposite the single window. 
In an instant 1 guessed that it was a 
secret exit from the room, and so I 
paused that lie might have an oppor- 
tunity to negotiate it, for I cared noth- 
ing to take the life of this poor servitor 
— all I craved was a clear road in pur- 
suit of Dejeh Thoris. 

But. try as he would, the panel 
would yield neither to cunning nor 
force, so that eventually he gave it up 
and turned to face me. 

" Go thy way, thern," I said to him, 
pointing toward the entrance to the run- 
way up which we had but just come. 
" 1 have no quarrel with you, nor do 
I crave your life. Go!" 

For answer he sprang upon me with 
his sword, and so suddenly, at that, that 
I was like to have gone down before his 
first rush. So there was nothing for 
it but to give him what he sought, and 
that as quickly as might be, that I 



868 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



might not be delayed too long in this 
chamber while Matai Shang and Thu- 
rid made way with Dejah Thoris and 
Thuvia of Ptarth. 

The fellow was a clever swordsman 
— resourceful and extremely tricky. In 
fact, he seemed never to have heard 
that there existed such a thing as a 
code of honor, for he repeatedly out- 
raged a dozen Barsoomian fighting 
customs that an honorable man would 
rather die than ignore. 

He even went so far as to snatch his 
holy wig from his head and throw it 
in my face, so as to blind me fur a 
moment while he thrust at my unpro- 
tected breast. 

When lie thrust, however, I was not 
there, for I had fought with thelitis 
before: and while none had ever re- 
sorted to precisely that same expedient. 
I knew them to be the least honorable 
and most treacherous lighters upon 
Mars, and so was ever on the alert for 
some new and devilish subterfuge when 
I was engaged with one of their race. 

But at length he overdid the thing; 
for, drawing his short sword, he hurled 
it, javelinwise. at my body, at the same 
instant rushing upon me with his long 
sword. A single sweeping circle of 
my own blade caught the flying weapon 
and hurled it clattering against the far 
wall, and then, as I side-stepped my 
antagonist's impetuous rush. I let him 
have my point full in the stomach as 
he hurtled by. 

Clear to the hilt my weapon passed 
through his body, and with a fright- 
ful shriek he sank to the floor, dead. 

Halting only for the brief instant 
that w as required to wrench my sword 
from the carcass of my late antagonist. 
I sprang across the chamber to the blank 
wall beyond, through which the thern 
had attempted to pass. Here I sought 
for the secret of its lock, but all to no 
avail. 

In despair I tried to force the thing, 
but the cold, unyielding stone might 
well have laughed at my futile, puny 
endeavors. In fact. I could have 
sworn that I caught the faint sugges- 



tion of taunting laughter from beyond 
the ballling panel. 

In disgust I desisted from my use- 
less efforts and stepped to the cham- 
ber's single window. 

The slopes of Otz and the distant 
Valley of Lost Souls held nothing to 
compel my interest then; but, tower- 
ing far above me. the tower's carved 
wall riveted my keenest attention. 

Somewhere within that massive pile 
was Dejah Thoris. Above me I could 
see windows. There, possibly, lay the 
only way by which I could reach her. 
The risk was great, but not too great 
when the fate of a world's most won- 
drous woman was at stake. 

I glanced below. A hundred feet 
beneath lay jagged granite boulders at 
the brink of a frightful chasm upon 
which the tower abutted; and if not 
upon the boulders, then at the chasm's 
bottom, lay death, should a foot slip 
but once, or clutching fingers lose their 
hold for the fraction of an instant. 

But there was no other way and with 
a shrug, which I must admit was half 
shudder, I stepped to the window's 
outer sill and began my perilous ascent 
aloft. 

To my dismay I found that, unlike 
the ornamentation upon most Helium- 
atic structures, the edges of the carv- 
ings were quite' generally rounded, so 
that at best my every hold was most 
precarious. 

Fifty feet above me commenced a 
series of projecting cylindrical stones, 
some six inches in diameter. These 
apparently circled the tower at six-foot 
intervals, in bands six feet apart; and 
as each stone cylinder protruded some 
four or five inches beyond the surface 
of the other ornamentation, they pre- 
sented a comparatively easy mode of 
ascent could I but reach them. 

Laboriously I climbed toward them 
by way of some windows which lay 
below them, for I hoped that I might 
find ingress to the tower through one 
of these, and thence an easier avenue 
along which to prosecute my search. 

At times so slight was my hold upon 



WARLORD OF MARS. 



869 



the rounded surfaces of the carving's 
edges that a sneeze, a cough, or even a 
slight gust of wind would have dis- 
lodged me and sent me hurtling to the 
depths below. 

But finally I reached a point where 
my fingers could just clutch the sill of 
the lowest window, and I was on the 
point of breathing a sigh of relief when 
the sound of voices came to me from 
above through the open window. 

" He can never solve the secret of 
that lock." The voice was Matai 
Shang's. " Let us proceed to the han- 
gar above that we may be far to the 
south before he finds another way — 
should that be possible." 

" All things seem possible to that 
vile calot," replied another voice, which 
I recognized as Thurid's. 

" Then let us .haste," said Matai 
Shang. " But to be doubly sure. 1 will 
leave two who shall patrol this run- 
way. Later they may follow us upon 
another flier — overtaking us at Kaol." 

My upstretched fingers never reached 
the window's sill. At the first sound 
of the voices I drew back my hand ami 
clung there to my perilous perch, flat- 
tened against the perpendicular wall, 
scarce daring to breathe. 

What a horrible position, indeed, in 
which to be discovered by Thurid ! He 
had but to lean from the window to 
push me with his sword's point into 
eternity. 

Presently the sound of the voices 
became fainter, and once again I. took 
up my hazardous ascent; but now it 
was more difficult, since more circui- 
tous, for I must climb so as to avoid 
the windows. 

Matai "Shang's reference to the han- 
gar and the iliers indicated that my 

(To be c 



destination lay nothing short of the 
roof of the tower, and toward this 
seemingly distant goal I set my face. 

The most difficult part of the journey 
was accomplished, and it was with re- 
lief that I felt my fingers close about 
the lowest of the stone cylinders. 

It is true that these projections were 
too far apart to make the balance of 
the ascent anything of a sinecure, but 
I at least had always within my reach 
a point of safety to which I might cling 
in case of accident. 

Some ten feet below the roof the- 
wall inclined slightly inward possibly 
a foot in the last ten feet, and here the 
climbing was immeasurably easier, so 
that my fingers soon clutched the eaves. 

As I drew my eyes above the level 
of the tower's top I saw a flier all but 
ready to rise. 

Upon her deck was Matai Shang, 
1'haidor. Dejah Thoris, Thuvia of 
Ptarth, and a few thern warriors, 
while beside her stood Thurid in the act 
of clambering aboard. 

He was not ten paces from me, 
facing in the opposite direction ; and 
what cruel freak of fate should have 
caused him to turn about just as my 
eyes topped the roof's edge I may not 
even guess. 

But turn he did ; and when his eyes 
met mine his wicked face lighted with 
a malignant smile as he leaped toward 
me. where I was hastening to scramble 
to the secure footing of the roof. 

Dejah Thoris must have seen me at 
the same instant, for she screamed a 
useless warning just as Thurid's foot, 
swinging in a mighty kick, landed full 
in my face. 

Like a felled ox, T reeled and tum- 
bled backward over the tower's side. 

ontinaed.) 



RESPICE FINEM. 
By Francis Quarles.' 



MY soul, sit thou a patient looker-on; 

Judge not the play before the play is done. 
Her plot hath many changes; every day 
Speaks a new scene; the last act crowns the play. 



^Jjouseo 



orcer 






Jack 
Harrower 



SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. 

CLIFF ELLIS, successful actor, is in love with Doris Armont. He follows her, dis- 
covers that she is apparently the ward of a grotesque doctor. Because of a mix- 
up concerning a friend of his, one Tom Bradworth, Ellis gets admittance to 
Doris's house, and, after a surprising conversation with her and Leidner, the doctor, 
agrees to become engaged to the young lady, though he has to promise to ask no ques- 
tions and to curh his suspicions of whatever he may see or hear in the house. 

Hardly is this agreement made when Kronholtz, an outsider, comes and demands 
a certain ring from Doris. Leidner forces her to give up this ring, but F.llis, unable 
to ask questions, yet filled with curiosity, follows the man who took the ring to an 
apartment hotel, where he finds a woman who calls herself Doris Armont. too. 

From the latter he succeeds in rescuing the ring, but suddenly discovers that he is 
being spied upon by a man with remarkably piercing eyes. 



CHAPTER VII. 

ACTING OKF-STAG15. 

THE man with the gray eyes stared. 
Our glances met: then instantly 
he looked away and hecame ab- 
sorbed in studying the frescos round 
the ceiling. I sought to locate the girl 
I had tricked. 

She was walking aimlessly to the 
center of the room : and a few feet away 
stood the individual who had been sent 
by Kronholtz to receive the ring, star- 
ing directly at me with a perplexed 
frown on his hang-dog features. He, 
too, had seen me recover the handker- 
chief, evidently noted "my red carna- 
tion and my glance into my palm. 



Quickly he strode to the woman's 
side, doffed his hat. and began speaking 
to her excitedly, nodding his head re- 
peatedly in my direction. She turned, 
with a bewildered expression on her 
dark features, and surveyed me. 

If my wish had not been working up 
to concert pitch at that very instant 
this story would never have been writ- 
ten — for the plan I then and there de- 
cided upon like a lightning-flash proved 
to be the pivot upon which all that fol- 
lows turned. 

I had the ring. But I needed more 
than that. I wanted the riddle of the 
ring. The girl probably knew. I would 
speak to her. A scheme tin folded to 
me as smoothly as if I had rehearsed 



Began November All-Story Magazine. Single Copies, J 5 cents. 

870 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



871 



it for a month — an inspiration, if you 
like. 

One glance I gave at the man oppo- 
site w ith the eyes of a hawk, lie was 
still apparently absorbed in the fres- 
coes around the ceiling. I would have 
to chance it with him. 

Evidently he was after the ring, too. 
But it -was very apparent that he was 
not playing the game with the girl and 
Kronholtz's emissary. So. placing the 
ring in my waistcoat-pocket, I started 
forward into the writing-room, walking 
a little irregularly, as a gentleman will 
who has imbibed somewhat freely. 

My eyes were half shut: a vacuous 
smile adorned my face. I thanked "my 
stars 1 was an actor. 

I approached the perturbed couple, 
who realized that the wrong man had 
obtained the much-sought ring. 

" Pardon me. madam." I addressed 
the woman, with my hat in my hand. 

They both eyed me curiously, show- 
ing plainly their perturbation. 

" You dropped your handk'chief by 
the door, an' I picked it up. An' you 
dropped — hie — a ring in m' hand. Yes 
— dropped ring in m" hand. Whatcher 
— got — say — hie — 'bout it. eh? " 

" Oh, sir, I just missed it." she smiled 
up into my face winningly. And when 
she smiled any inebriated gentleman 
would have given her his bank-roll : but 
I didn't happen to be drunk. 

" You see. it must have fallen from 
my finger,'' she continued. " It is rath- 
er large, and when I took the handker- 
chief from you it fell into your hand. 
Thank you ever so much for returning 
it." 

She held out her hand as if there 
was no question about my turning over 
the ornament. She was some actress 
herself. 

" Madam." I -said, shaking my head, 
pained and grieved. " I am — hie — 
under influ'nce liquor — slighiy. very 
sligh'ly. Pint I'm min'ster's son. I am. 
An' it pains — hie — me very much 
t' have beau'ful young lady lib t' me — 
hie — like that. 

" Oh. yes — you fibbed t' me — yesy'- 



did," I contended, shaking my finger 
at her reprovingly in answer to the in- 
dignant expression that shot from her 
eyes. They vvere wonderful eyes in- 
deed — smoldering fires burning beneath 
them, which seemed to change their col- 
or and expression with every emotion 
of their owner. 

" Lis'en here," I admonished, sha- 
king my head solemnly. " Somethin's 
wrong — hie — very wrong — 'cause I 
saw this gemman speak t' you like a 
stranger, an' you b-both looked — hie — 
over at me. 

" You dropped that ring on p-purpose 
— oh, yes, y' did. You mistook me f'r 
him. He has beau'ful red carnashun — 
hie — an' I have beau'ful red carnashun. 
I may be drunk — hie — sligh'ly under 
influ'nce, y' know — but I'm wise — hie 
— betcherlife I'm wise! " 

I smiled fatuously into her eyes, again 
shaking a reproving finger. 

"Sir!" she exclaimed, simulating 
splendidly righteous indignation. "That 
is my husband's ring, and I deniand 
that you return it. or I shall have an , 
officer summoned." 

" Oh, no. y* won't — no y' won't. 
You're in bad — y' know y'r in bad — 
hie — an' I know, too," I argued with 
the unreasoning stubbornness which 
liquor produces. 

" Tell yer what." I continued, " if 
you'll send this — hie — gemman for y'r 
husban'. an' he can 'dentify ring, well'n 
good. If not — hie — well'n good, also." 

I waved my hand as if fate itself had 
decreed. 

Standing a few steps in back of the 
woman w r as the man with the search- 
light eyes, staring absorbedly up at the 
frescoes round the ceiling. But I no- 
ticed his ears — enormous lobes which 
seemed to be glued flat against the sides 
of his head — and I knew that they 
heard every word I uttered. 

I purposely spoke loud enough for 
him to hear, for I would have to deal 
with him sooner or later, and I would 
give him something to guess about in 
the interim. I had already acquired an 
enormous respect for him. There was 



872 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



something about the man that told me 
he was no infant with whom to match 
wits. 

Meanwhile the strange eyes of the 
girl were studying me, changing ex- 
pression with every thought of her agile 
brain. At last she came to a decision. 

" Very well." she returned quietly. 
" And will you give my husband the 
ring if he identifies it'?" 

" 'Suredly— hie— mos' 'suredly ! " I 
affirmed. " I'm gemman of m' word, 
I am. Send this gemman for y' hus- 
ban' — hie — an' we'll wait here f* him." 

" All right." she agreed. " Pardon 
me a moment." 

She stepped aside and spoke in a low, 
rapid tone to the fellow with the hang- 
dog countenance who had stood beside 
her throughout the interview, glowering 
at me with his watery, pale-blue little 
eyes. He looked as if he would have 
taken extreme delight in strangling me. 

And T caught these words here and 
there: " Kronholtz — quickly — back 
here — hold him — the drunken fool ! "' 

She returned in a moment, smiling 
very sweetly. 

" Very well. sir. This gentleman will 
have my husband here in about half an 
hour. Shall we wait here? " 

" 'Suredly — hie — wait here wizzu — 
*f course." 

She led the way to a w riting-desk and 
seated herself. I drew another chair 
alongside and sat down somewhat un- 
steadily. I had accomplished something 
by getting rid of Kronholtz's man. 

Now, to get some information, if pos- 
sible, from this very clever young lady. 

Even while 1 rested my elbow on the 
desk the man with the expressionless 
face and piercing gray eves had saun- 
tered over aimlessly, stationed himself 
three feet away, and again resumed his 
absorbed contemplation of the ceiling. 

T chuckled to myself. 

" T'll give you a run for your money." 
I thought: and then addressed myself 
to the girl before me, who was striving 
hard to conceal her irritation at what 
she supposed my drunken meddling. 

" Sorry t' trouble a lady — hie — but 



I'm married m'self." I began. "Got 
three chil'ren — beau'ful wife. I believe 
in p-preservin' san-sanctity of the home. 
An' you — married lady — meet man — 
hie — strange man — wizzer ring — poor 
husban's ring. Looks bad — hie — 
v-very bad." 

Her long, slender fingers, resting on 
the desk before her, seemed to be itch- 
ing to tear my hair, while those ex- 
traordinary eyes smoldered with sup- 
pressed fury. But she evidently had 
come to the conclusion that the best 
plan was to humor me and endeavor to 
exercise her charms to overcome my 
suspicions. 

" Oh. sir, you do me a terrible in- 
justice!" she exclaimed, her voice 
trembling, her eyes now pathetic and 
beseeching. " You are a gentleman, I 
can see. Therefore, you will reserve 
your suspicions until they are proved, 
and not cast aspersions on my good 
name. 

" When my husband arrives he w ill 
explain everything to your entire sat- 
isfaction." 

Yes. the stage certainly lost an ac- 
complished artist when this girl turned 
adventuress. 

I wondered just how it could be ex- 
plained: and even while she spoke my 
eyes fell upon a gold mesh hand-bag 
which she had placed on the edge of 
the desk beside my elbow. And 
through the open chainwork I descried 
two keys — evidently the keys to apart- 
ment Xo. 12. Again my wits served 
me right royally. 

" M'dear madam," I began apolo- 
getically. " I — hie — beg y'umble — hie 
— "p-pardon for — " 

And just then my unsteady elbow 
slipped and knocked the gold mesh- 
bag to the floor at my feet. [ stooped 
to recover it, deftly opened the catch, 
palmed the two keys, and closed the 
bag again before my wabbly hand re- 
placed it on the table. 

She could not see the manipulation, 
for the top of the desk obstructed her 
range of vision. But some one else 
saw. 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



873 



As I raised my head from the floor 
two gray eyes were boring down, watch- 
ing every movement of my filching 
fingers. But as I replaced the bag on 
the desk those search-light eyes in their 
expressionless frame were again glued 
ccilingward. 

*' I beg y'umble pardon," I continued 
my interrupted apology. " Didn't mean 
t' hurt y' feelings. I'll r'serve — hie — 
my decishun till husban' arrives — so I 
will. Will y' ex'use me minute? Got 
t' tel'phone — hie — m' wife won't be 
home f'r 'n hour.'' 

" Certainly,'' she conceded, smiling 
graciously, very well pleased with the 
favorable impression she was apparent- 
ly making. 

I zigzagged over to two telephone 
booths alongside the door. They con- 
tained slot machines, and thus required 
no operator, for which I was thankful. 
I entered one and closed the sliding 
glass door behind me. 

The man with the face of a mummy 
and a hobby for studying interior dec- 
orations was sauntering into the adjoin- 
ing booth. 

" .Sound proof — these booths," I 
chuckled to myself. " Mr. Gimlet- 
Eyes will be fooled." 

1 dropped a nickel in the slot and 
called the number the occupant of apart- 
ment No. 12 had given me some half 
hour or so ago. And when the German 
accent voiced its " Hello," I answered., 
imitating the girl's voice to a nicety. 

I had been studying its every inflec- 
tion while she spoke to me. That had 
been my specialty in the St. Louis Stock 
Company — impersonations: and it 
stood me in good stead at this very 
moment. 

" Hello." I responded in the girl's 
rich, musical tones. " do you know who 
is speaking? " 

" Yah," he returned at once. " Vat 
iss der matter? Didn't my man ar- 
rive? " 

" Yes," I replied. Then I told him 
in a few rapid words just what had 
happened. 

He swore very fluently, considering 



that the English language handicapped 
him, and utterly regardless of the fact 
that a " lady " was on the other end 
of the wire. I interrupted his flow of 
brimstone. 

" Listen to me ! " I called sharply. 
" It is all right, now. After I sent your 
man to fetch you, I succeeded in whee- 
dling this 'drunken fool into giving me 
the ring." 

"Ach! HihiHteU You're a peach — 
von big peach ! " he shouted over the 
wire. 

" As soon as your man arrives," I 
continued, " send him at once to the 
lobby of the Garford Hotel on Broad- 
way. I'll meet him there in about half 
an hour — as soon as I can get rid of 
this drunken fool — and give him the 
ring." 

" Goot ! Here he iss now." 

" All right— good-by." 

Highly pleased with my successful 
effort at imitating the girl's voice, I 
dropped another nickel in the slot. 

*' Now, to fool her own brother." I 
told myself, and gave the number of 
the apartment-house where he resided, 
which I had noted carefully while sit- 
ting at the switchboard. A good mem- 
ory is a handy thing in cases like this. 

In a moment my colored friend was 
connecting me with apartment No. 12. 

" Hello," the girl's voice greeted her 
brother. " I'm talking to vou from the 
Willington." 

I shivered in my boots for fear he 
would detect the impersonation. But 
no. 

" Yes — did you pass the ring along 
all right ? " 

" No," I replied, and told him briefly 
what had transpired. 

Not being handicapped like Kron- 
holtz. he swore rapidly and volubly, 
with great picturesqueness. 

" Listen to me." T interrupted. " I 
have persuaded this drunken fool to go 
with me to the Hotel .Saint Claire. . You 
are supposed to be my husband, and 
are stopping there — understand? 

" He says he will give up the ring 
if you can describe it, so it is not so 



874 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



bad after all. I will meet you in the 
lobby of the Saint Claire in half an 
hour. Be sure to be there." 

" You bet I will ! Good-by." 

Immensely pleased. I dropped an- 
other nickel in the slot and called Max 
Leidner's number. As luck would have 
it Doris herself answered. 

" Hello. This is Cliff Ellis." 

" Yes ; what's the matter ? " came her 
wondering question. 

" Can't explain now. I want you to 
do something. Call up Mr. King at 
number Double - O - three Madison 
Square. That is the number of the 
Hotel Willington. where I am now. I 
am Mr. King, understand. Tell the 
operator to have me paged in the wri- 
ting-room. Telephone immediately." 

Yes," came her quick response. 
" Good-by." 

" Good-by." I said, and again walked 
unsteadily across the room and rejoined 
the girl, who was sitting patiently where 
I left her. As I took my seat beside 
her at the desk the man with the gimlet 
eyes had already emerged from the 
other telephone booth and was saunter- 
ing casually toward us. 

" M'wife was out — hie — visitin' 
frien'," I informed the girl with the 
changeable eyes. " So I talked wiz 
daughter — beau'ful little g-girl — hie — 
ra'daughter is. betcherlife. Her muz- 
zer's goin' call me soon's she — " «• 

"Mr. King — Mr. King!" cried a 
young man in uniform, paging through 
the writing-room. 

" There" she is now." I said. " Holy 
smoke! If m' wife saw me sittin' here 
wizzu — good night! Very j-jealous 
woman — m' wife." I smiled stupidly at 
my companion. '* 'Xcuse me once more 
—hie — please. Be back in minute." 

She bowed a smiling acquiescence as 
1 rose and followed the boy. As I 
turned into the lobby I could see the 
man with the expressionless face stand- 
ing near the girl at the desk, staring up 
steadfastly at the ceiling. 

" He figures it's best to watch her." 
I reflected. " Very good. It would 
have been a hard job to lose him." 



I took the call in a booth which one 
of the operators at the switchboard in- 
dicated. 

"Hello, Doris!" I said. "You've 
done well. That's all I wanted — to be 
called so I could get away from a cer- 
tain party. Will explain later. See 
vou as soon as I can. I've got the ring. 
Good-by." 

Without losing any time I hurried 
across the lobby and out on Broadway, 
very well pleased with my impromptu 
performance. 

" Now for a little investigation,"' I 
mused, wending my way back toward 
the house from which Doris Armont 
No. 2 had emerged. 

I had the girl's keys to apartment 
No. 12. and I might find papers there 
which would throw some light on this 
baffling riddle of the ring. Her brother 
would have left by this time to meet 
his sister at the Saint Claire, and thus 
the apartment would be open for my 
inspection. Kronholtz's man would be 
on his way to the Gar ford Hotel. He 
would get tired waiting for the girl 
after an hour, and return to report 
to his employer. Then • Kronholtz 
would telephone apartment No. 12 to 
find nobody there, and then rush to the 
Willington to try and trace the girl. 

After her brother became tired of 
waiting at the Saint Claire the probabil- 
ities were that he would go to the Wil- 
lington also. Meanwhile the girl 
would become uneasy at my non-ap- 
pearance, but I counted on her deciding 
to wait' there, trusting that I would 
eventually return. 

She would be afraid to leave the 
writing-room and thus lose all chance 
of recovering the ring. I ought to have 
a clear road in my investigation for the 
next hour, at least. 

" Gee ! Won't they be mad when 
they all meet in the Willington and 
compare notes?" I chuckled. "Won- 
der how in blazes Mr. GimletrEyes be- 
came mixed up — " 

" Good evening. Mr. Ellis." 

Somebody had* tapped me gently on 
the shoulder. 



THE HOUSE 

Annoyed at being recognized, and 
possibly interrupted in my mission, I 
turned and there was Mr. Gimlet- Eyes, 
no longer with a face like a stone image, 
but smiling blandly up into my face! 



CHAPTER VIII. 

APARTMENT NO. 12. 

I could only stare at him. wonder- 
ing stupidly how he knew my name. 

" You worked that pretty slick — yes, 
very slick." he confided, still smiling 
genially. '' You are a good actor — on 
and off the stage. Rather out of your 
line, though, isn't it?" 

"Sir!" I exclaimed angrily, know- 
ing not what to say. 

I could have knocked him down, so 
mad was I at this unexpected stumbling- 
block to my little scheme. 

" Tut, tut! " he remonstrated, taking 
my arm like a good fellow will, and 
starting along Broadway with me. 
" Don't let's lose precious time standing 
here. We must get back to apartment 
No. 12. and see what there is to see." 

I nearly dropped to the sidewalk. 
How the devil did he know I was bound 
for apartment No. 12? He noted my 
surprise with a little smile across his 
Avide mouth which almost severed his 
face in half. 

" Come on," he urged, walking 
ahead. " We'll talk as we walk." 

There was nothing else to do. I cer- 
tainly couldn't lose him just now. 

■' What makes you think I'm bound 
for this place you mention?" I asked. 
Staring at him as we hurried along. 

" Didn't you pinch the young lady's 
key.-?" he parried with another ques- 
tion and a conliding smile. 

It was wonderful what a transfor- 
mation came over that mummy face 
when its owner talked and smiled. It 
was now the most keenly intelligent- 
face I had ever observed. 

'" What business is it of yours — " I 
began, my anger rising rapidly. 

" As much my business as yours," he 
interrupted genially. " Please don't 



OF SORCERY. 875 

let's argue. Time is precious. We'll 
have about an hour to search. Her 
brother will leave the apartment and 
wait for her at the Saint Claire. 

" Kronholtz's man will be waiting 
at the Gar ford Hotel. And when they 
all take a tumble and meet the girl at 
the Willington, there'll be some fire- 
works, believe me! " 

I stopped short in the middle of the 
hurrying swirl of people on the crowd- 
ed avenue, and stared with mouth agape 
at this astonishing creature beside me. 
Plow in the name of sorcery did he 
know all this? Then I voiced my con- 
viction in stammering words : 

" Are — are you — a mind-reader? " 

'* Xo — only a good listener." 

" But I was in a sound-proof tele- 
phone booth ! " I ejaculated. 

"See these ears?" He pointed a 
stubby finger to his nearest ear — one 
1 if those immense organs which seemed 
glued to the side of his head. 

It was different from any human 
ear I had ever seen. It was remark- 
ably thin — almost transparent near the 
edges: and the orifice was exceedingly 
large, curving back into the head with a 
long sweep which gave his whole ear 
the general appearance of the horn of 
a talking-machine. 

" I have the best hearing of any man 
on earth." he continued easily. " I 
could almost have heard every word of 
your impersonating voice if I had stood 
outside on the floor of the writing- 
room." 

" By gad, I believe you could ! '-' I 
admitted, staring admiringly at that 
extraordinary appendage. 

Again he had my arm and was hur- 
rying me swiftly along. We turned a 
corner and started east on the street 
where Doris Armont No. 2 lived. 

" And I suppose you heard every 
word I said to the girl," I conceded, 
utterly upset. 

*' You bet I did. Jiminy — it was 
rich ! " he chuckled . gleefully. " I've 
always prided myself on being quick- 
witted, but I'm a humble disciple of 
yours after this." 



876 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" You seem to think that I'm going 
to cultivate your acquaintance from 
now on," I voiced sarcastically. 
" You're very much mistaken. I'm 
going to side-track you at the first op- 
portunity." 

His immense mouth opened in a 
cheerful grin. 

You're not dealing with a woman 
now," he informed graciously. " Be- 
sides, you and 1 have interests in com- 
mon. We can't afford to quarrel — at 
least, not until after we have ransacked 
apartment No. 12." 

1 did some rapid thinking. Maybe 
he was right. He was playing against 
this girl and her brother just like my- 
self. He was certainly resourceful, 
and our combined wits ought to work 
well together — for a timt. 1 suddenly 
thought that he might know the riddle 
of the ring. 

" You're right," I conceded amiably. 
" It's a bargain? What do you know 
about this ring? " 

" What do you know? " he retorted. 

" I asked you first." 

" I know a whole lot — but I won't 
tell you just now. We can discuss that 
later. We have work ahead." 

" What's your plan? " I asked, men- 
tally voting that I would not now lose 
sight of him for a good deal. 

He knew the riddle of the ring. 
Good! — and I'd know it soon if I had 
to choke it out of him. But I realized 
it would be quite a choking operation, 
for, though much below the average 
in height, he was as wiry as an eel and 
as stocky as a young bull. Besides, he 
was no fool. 

" My plan is simple," he informed. 
" I'll take the keys and go into apart- 
ment No. 12. The windows face on an 
empty lot on the east side. You sta- 
tion yourself on the sidewalk, in view 
of these windows. I'll throw one open 
when 1 enter. If you see the girl or 
her brother — By the way, do you 
know her brother by sight? " 

V Yes." 

" Good. If either of them returns 
before I finish my investigation, you 



whistle, and I'll come out into the hall 
and down the stairs." 

" Very nice," 1 responded dryly. 
" And you get all the information — 
and keep it.'' 

" You can go into the apartment, 
then," he answered readily, " and I'll 
keep watch on the sidewalk. The only 
reason I suggested rny going in was 
that I have a pretty good idea where 
and for what to search. If you have, 
also, why, go ahead. I'm satisfied 
either way — so long as we get the in- 
formation." 

He was evidently perfectly frank in 
the matter, and I didn't know where 
and for what to search. 

" No — you search," I conceded. 

" And if either of them returns be- 
fore I'm through," he went on, " you 
whistle, and then, follow up the stairs, 
and I'll meet you there and we'll try 
something else I have in mind." 

Very well," I agreed, as we came 
near the house. I handed him the two 
keys I had taken from the girl's mesh 
bag. 

Arrived at the door, I saw that the 
young negro was up through the build- 
ing somewhere with the elevator. 

" Now's your chance before the 
elevator - bov comes down," I said. 
" Good luck! " 

He shot into the corridor and up the 
stairway like a monkey. I walked to 
' the east end of the building, in front of 
the vacant lot, where I could scan the 
windows. 

In a minute a light shone in the front 
apartment on the second floor, and a 
moment later my new acquaintance's 
chunky form appeared at a window. 
He threw up the sash, lowered the enr- 
. tain half-way, waved his hand at me, 
and disappeared to commence his 
search. 

1 paced quietly up and down, keep- 
ing a watchful eye for the return of 
the girl or her brother. 

I tried to figure out just what in- 
terest this astounding stranger had in 
the affair. It was beyond me — like a 
good many other remarkable things 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



877 



which had transpired in this remark- 
able day. 

I had developed an enormous respect 
for the possessor of the wireless-tele- 
graph ears in my short acquaintance — 
also an unaccountable liking. He was 
a man after my own heart; and his 
astonishingly shrewd gray eyes had a 
very frank expression for one engaged 
in such shady proceedings. 

A half-hour passed. It seemed like 
two hours to me. I was growing mo- 
mentarily very nervous. Ever and 
anon the quick-moving shadow of my 
companion in crime was thrown against 
one of the lighted windows as he 
searched through the apartment. 

Evidently his efforts were proving 
unavailing. 

Then, crossing Madison Avenue and 
coming down the street with quick 
steps. I descried the figure of the girl's 
brother whom I had followed from 
Max Leidner's home. I whistled 
sharply. 

Immediately the lights were extin- 
guished in apartment No. 12, and I 
shot through the doorway and into 
the corridor. The elevator had just 
ascended with a lady who preceded me 
a few seconds before. I sprang up the 
stairway and met my companion on 
the first landing, coming down. 

" Armont is returning," I said in a 
hurried whisper. " What luck?" 

" Couldn't find a thing. Listen now 
to my plan. As soon as he enters his 
apartment we'll knock on the door. By 
the way. does he know you by sight? " 

" Not to my knowledge." 
W e'll chance it, then. I'll inform 
him that we are central-office men in 
search of a man who was seen by a 
passer-by on the street climbing down 
the fire-escape of this house from the 
roof. As we noticed a window of his 
apartment open, we think he entered 
there, and is in hiding. 

" If he thinks — as he probably will 
— that it has some connection with 
this matter of the ring, he will in all 
probability rush at once for the place 
where he secretes the documents I — 



we are looking for. That will give you 
your cue to steer him into another part 
of the apartment, and I'll secure the 
evidence. Are you on ? " 
" Yes." 

By this time Armont, on the floor 
below, was pressing the electric button 
to summon the elevator. Just then it 
passed on the way down. We stepped 
back in the hallway and waited. 

In a minute it was ascending again, 
stopped at the floor above, and we 
heard Armont step out and open the 
door of apartment No. 12. For an- 
other half-minute we waited till the 
elevator returned to the main floor. 

" Here," spoke my companion, 
handing me a revolver. " Stick it in 
your pocket, and when we start to 
search pull it like a real detective. 
Come on." 

I followed him up the stairway to 
the next floor. 

He rang the bell of No. 12 violently. 
Almost instantly it opened, and for the 
first time I caught a view of George 
Armont's face. 

It was not prepossessing — sallow- 
skin, a drooping blond mustache, with 
a shifty look in his black, close-set eyes. 
He stared at us inquiringly. 

" We're central-office men," spoke 
my companion bruskly, in a low tone, 
throwing back his coat and displaying 
some sort of a shield. " Somebody on 
the street saw a man come down the 
fire-escape from the roof of this house 
and disappear in a window of your 
apartment." 

He stepped in confidently and I fol- 
lowed. 

"With your permission we'll search." 

Armont fell back, flustered, alarm 
showing plainly on his sallow features. 

" Yes-es — certainly — go ahead." he 
stammered, turning and rushing into 
the dining-room. 

" The window's open ! " he ex- 
claimed, pointing to it. " I didn't no- 
tice — I jusLcame in myself." 

Quickly he turned, pulled open the 
lowest drawer of a small bureau by the 
wall, threw out some wearing apparel, 



878 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



and touched a small, square tin box 
which was thus revealed; then, with a 
sigh of relief, closed the drawer again. 
My companion looked at me signifi- 
cantly as the proprietor turned to face 
us again. 

" We'll search through the rooms," 
my fellow-conspirator said. 

I started for the rear, through a 
long hall, and Armont followed me. 
With drawn revolver I covered the 
premises, searching systematically in 
every closet or other place likely To 
afford concealment. 

Armont watched expectantly over 
my shoulder. 1 finished at last. 

" Must have escaped through the 
door into the hall," I said. " Guess he 
had robbed an apartment in some 
neighboring house, and just used your 
flat as a means of escape." 

" Yes — I guess so," replied the man. 
much relieved, evidently assured that 
the intruder was not involved in the 
affair of the ring. 

We returned to the dining-room. 

" I've searched the front," said my 
friend, awaiting us there, and return- 
ing his gun to his hip-pocket. " Guess 
he got out through the hall door." 

" Yes — he escaped through this 
apartment.' - I contributed. Robbed 
some apartment next door, maybe, and 
then came down this fire-escape." 

" Guess you're right," responded the 
other fake detective. " Let's get after 
him. The elevator-boy must have seen 
him go down-stairs." 

We moved to the door. I was spec- 
ulating- as to where he had placed the 
tin box. It was to.) bulky to conceal 
about his person. 

" Sorry to trouble you," he said to 
Armont apologetically as we stepped 
into the hall. 

" Not at all," responded the other, 
and closed the door. 

My companion hurried down the 
stairs and was out on the street before. 
I caught up to him. 

" Where's the box? " I queried, puz- 
zled. 

He grinned, and, passing to the east 



side of the house, dived into the vacant 
lot. 

Stooping, he picked something up off 
the ground in the shadow beside the 
wall. 

He rejoined me, the tin box tucked 
snugly under his arm, and from which 
he was in the act of breaking a long 
piece of twine, which he stpwed care- 
fully in his pocket. 

CHAPTER IX. 

SOME SWIFT SIDE-STEPPING. 

Mr. Gimlet-Eyes turned westward 
on emerging from the lot and started 
ahead at a rapid pace, I keeping close 
beside him — on the side nearest the tin 
box. If he tried to elope with that ar- 
ticle, his face was doomed to come into 
violent contact with a brace of hard 
knuckles. 

" Lowered it from the window, on a 
string?" I said, by way of starting 
conversation. 

" Yep — which teaches a moral : Al- 
ways carry a piece of twine in your 
pocket," replied he. " I remember 
once in Australia Avhen a piece of cot- 
ton thread saved my life. Good story, 
that. 

" And this detective's shield I 
worked on our friend is a handy thing, 
too. If Armont had taken time to ex- 
amine il. we would never have got the 
tin box." 

"Why?" 

" New York cabman's license — vint- 
age of seventy - seven. Picked it up 
in a pawn - shop years ago. Always 
carry it with me when in this town — 
always." 

" I see you have studied your — er — 
art down to a fine point," I ventured 
to remark. 

" Got nothing on you. Cliff Ellis — 
not a thing. That drunken society 
man stunt you pulled on the lady was 
about as nifty a piece of work as I ever 
saw.'* 

His expansive mouth opened again 
to emit a hearty chuckle; then he com- 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



879 



menced intoning, in a sing-song, this 
little gem : 

By chance I met an actor-man, 

Who acted tlie thief as goad as I can. 

Oh-ho ! He-ho ! 

His voice was about as musical as 
a ton of coal sliding down an iron 
chute. 

" That's a pretty little thing," I com- 
mented. " But don't do it often. My 
musical ear is rather sensitive." 

" Oh, I always sing when I arrive at 
a conclusion," he replied, unabashed. 

'" Really. And what conclusion 
might you have arrived at now? " 

" That there is something in back of 
all your acting to-night." 

" Well, I'm not qualifying for Black- 
well's Island for the fun of the thing," 
I agreed. " And by the same token, I 
opine that you are not, cither." 

" You opine correctly," he came 
back laconically. 

'• Where are you steering for now? " 
I queried. 

" To my little three-room ilal — this 
street — other side of Broadway. The 
tin box is locked, and we'll have to pry 
it open." 

" By the wav. how did vou know I 
was Cliff Ellis? " 

" Saw you in ' The Perfect Woman ' 
last week. Never forget a face if 1 
flash it for a minute or so." 

" I believe it." 1 assented, gazing 
sidewise at those search-light eyes of 
his. to find that they were observing me 
the same way. " And might 1 ask your 
name ? " 

" You might." 

" Which is—" . 

" A difficult question to answer. 1 
have so many. At present it is — but 
that wouldn't enlighten you any. I 
only christened myself with it three 
days ago." 

" I see — your term just expired. 
Starting life all over again, eh? How 
long were vou up for this last trip?" 

" You're' away off. Cliff Ellis." he 
corrected — ** away off. I've just been 
acting the thief like yourself. But as 



I remarked before — I'm your humble 
disciple. Some swift side-stepping to- 
night. Cliff, my boy. 

" You pinched the ring — got rid of 
Kronholtz's man — then pinched the 
keys — got Armont out of the way — 
flagged the lady — and then pinched the 
tin box from under its owner's very 
nose. Some swift side-stepping — yes, 
sir ! " 

" You pinched the tin box," I dis- 
claimed the honor frankly. " And it 
was your scheme. It worked admir- 
ably." 

" Yes — it will work every time under 
like conditions. A trait in human na- 
ture, you know. A person will grab 
instinctively for that which he or she 
prizes most in time of danger. That's 
what Armont did." 

" And does he prize the tin box more 
than anything else?" I asked inno- 
cently. 

He was looking at me sidewise again. 

*' Maybe." was all the satisfaction 
he vouchsafed. " Well, here we are." 

We had crossed Broadway, and my 
companion turned into the doorway of 
a flat-house in the center of the block 
on the up-town side. He opened the 
inner door with a latchkey, and led the 
way inside the hall. 

He applied another key to a door on 
the west side, and held it open for me 
to enter, touching a button and flooding 
the room with electric light. 

1 looked about curiously. It was a 
simply furnished sitting-room, showing 
evidences of a careless bachelor's home 
life. He motioned me to a chair, of- 
fered me a box of cigars, and placing 
the tin box carefully on the mantel, sat 
opposite me in an armchair, puffing 
voluminously on the weed he had 
selected. He seemed in no haste. I 
was. 

'* Let's open that tin box," I sug- 
gested ])•■ ilitely, 

" Just a moment." he said. " First 
let's see if we can't arrive at an under- 
standing. Our interests seem to run 
parallel — apparently. 

" You are playing against Armont 



880 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



and his crowd. So am I. You arc 
looking - for the information in this tin 
box. So am L. What's the answer? " 

"Yes — what's the answer? " I mur- 
mured. 

" Do you mind telling me how you 
knew the girl started out with that ring- 
to the Willington ? " he asked off- 
handedly. 

" 1 heard her brother phone Kron- 
holtz and make the arrangements for 
passing it along. In fact, I gave him 
the connection on the switchboard." 

It occurred to me if 1 simulated 
frankness with him he might loosen up 
with a little information himself. 

" Ah, I see. But how did you hap- 
pen to be on the switchboard? " 

" How did you happen to be waiting 
outside the door? " I parried. " Seems 
to me you're getting more knowledge 
than you give." 

'* 1 generally do/' he admitted can- 
didly, his mouth spreading earward in 
that large smile. "If I could only fig- 
ure out." he went on musingly, staring 
up at the ceiling as if thinking aloud, 
" how a Broadway star is mixed up in 
a matter concerning an old ring. I 
might be able to talk with freedom;" 

I'll save you the trouble of talking 
or figuring," 1 said grimly, rising sud- 
denly and pointing his own revolver 
within an inch of one of those immense 
ears. I couldn't waste any more time 
with this up-to-date Sphinx. It was 
easier to just take what I wanted. 

" Now, don't stir a finger," I warned, 
moving guardedly toward the tin box 
on the mantel in back of him. 

He grinned. 

" That gun's empty." 

I stared at the barrel. Sure enough, 
no cartridges were there. I threw it on 
a near-by table with a few choice words. 
And when 1 glanced savagely at the 
grinning man in the armchair, it was I 
who stared into the muzzle of a vicious- 
looking gun. 

" I'll trouble you, Cliff Ellis, to pass 
over that ring," he said softly, without 
stirring from his seat. 

It was my turn to grin. 



" While you were up-stairs in apart- 
ment No. 12," I informed him cheer- 
fully, " a messenger-boy came along 
the street. I had an inspiration. 

" I stopped him, placed the ring in 
an envelope., sealed it, and scribbled my 
own name and address upon it. By this 
time it is reposing in pigeon-hole ' E ' 
in back of the clerk's desk at my hotel." 

His jaw dropped; his keen eyes 
scanned mine, nonplussed. 

" Search me," 1 encouraged, throw- 
ing my arms above my head, still grin- 
ning. 

He merely threw his gun after mine 
on the table, and also voiced a few 
choice words. 

Mine's empty, too,'" he advertised 
with an answering grin. '* One has to 
be so careful nowadays with the New 
York police. They're so peevish about 
anybody but themselves carrying any- 
thing loaded. Well, you worked it 
pretty slick, I must admit. But then I 
might have known — " 

A strangled, hoarse cry broke in on 
his discourse, coming apparently from 
the darkness at the front end of his 
three-room flat : 

" Help! — help! — he's murdering me 
—help— he— " 

The voice died away in a choking 
sob. 

My companion sprang from his chair 
and shot through an adjoining bed- 
chamber to the front room. 

"Help! Police!" sounded the 
voice", now shrilly, this time seemingly 
from out-of-doors, on the sidewalk. 

I was on the other side of the hall 
door in a jiffy, my host tumbling back 
through the flat after me. I threw 
open the street door and dashed to the 
sidewalk. 

There was nothing but a deserted 
stretch of flagged pavements confront- 
ing my eyes. My host stood framed in 
the doorway, staring at me mystified. 

" Good night, my friend." I gibed 
him with a laugh, waving the tin box 
tauntingly in his face. 

I had picked it from the mantel the 
moment he jumped into the other room. 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



881 



" As well as impersonating. I can 
also spring a little ventriloquism on oc- 
casions," I added. " And here is the 
ring also." I enlightened him. pulling 
it from my vest-pocket and holding it 
up in my other hand for his inspection. 
" Ta-ta. dear pal. Some swift side- 
stepping, old top ! " I mocked, laughing 
cruelly at him. as I slowly turned to- 
ward Broadway. 

He merely stood there with that wide 
grin on his face, nodding his head ad- 
miringly, a twinkle in his gray eyes. 

With the tin box hugged close to my 
side I left him thus, and strode right 
merrily away. 

And the balmy air of that June night 
was disturbed, as. singing blithesomely 
at the top of my lungs, in imitation of 
that coal-scuttle voice, his own original 
little ditty floated back to its composer's 
ears : 

" By chance T met an actor-man, 
Who acted the thief as good as I can. 
O-ho! Jlc-ho!" 

At the corner of Broadway I turned 
north, glancing back for a last view of 
my partner in house-breaking. He was 
still standing on the stoop of his house, 
gazing after me. 

What was the next thing on the pro- 
gram? I pondered. It was now after 
eleven o'clock. 

What strange proceedings might 
have transpired in Max Leidncr's house 
of sorcery since my departure at nine 
in pursuit of the ring? I was very 
anxious to know. And yet, here was 
this tin box, stowed under my arm. 

Perhaps its contents would make 
plain many of the bizarre and unnerv- 
ing episodes which had mystified me 
this day. Yes; I must investigate my 
twice-stolen treasure before rejoining 
Doris Armont in that Madison Avenue 
house. Then I could better determine 
my next move. 

With the knowledge thus gained. I 
might be able to return and force Mr. 
Gimlet-eyes to disgorge the riddle of 
the ring which I was confident he pos- 
sessed. 

ii S 



So, coming to this conclusion after 
walking several blocks, I turned to cross 
over to the east side of the avenue and 
board an up-town surface car to my 
hotel at Forty-Second Street. In doing 
so I almost collided with two men di- 
rectly behind me, who were in the midst 
of an angry altercation as they walked. 

" You know where she is ! " shouted 
the smaller man of the two to his burly 
companion. " I'll follow you till I find 
out. You cur! You've broken up my 
home — robbed me of my wife. And 
you'll settle with me — I'll shoot you 
like a dog ! " 

And he made a movement toward 
his hip-pocket. 

It looked as if I was about to wit- 
ness a murder. I dropped in line in 
back of them, ready to grab his arm 
if he started anything. The little fel- 
low's other hand was excitedly clutch- 
ing the arm of the giant towering be- 
side him. 

" Let go, you little runt ! " growled 
the big fellow, trying to disengage his 
arm, and keeping a wary eye on his 
outraged companion. " You're crazy. 
I don't know where your wife is. Let 
go — I say ! " 

But the small chap was now hanging 
desperately onto his arm with both his 
hands. The other lifted his free arm, 
the massive paw clenched, and started 
a vicious swing for the jaw of his un- 
dersized antagonist. 

I had come up alongside, and as the 
flail-like arm swung I jumped in front 
to protect the little fellow, and with 
my free hand grasped the wrist of the 
other and pushed it to his side. 

"You big bully!" I said. "You 
ought to be shot for trying anything 
like that on a man his size." 

My blood was up; I never could tol- 
erate a bully. 

He glared at me, taken aback at this 
unexpected- interference. 

" Who gave you a license to stick 
your nose in other folks' affairs? " he 
sneered. " You dressed-up dude, may- 
be you think you are my size, then? " 

He sprang back quickly and squared 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



882 

off belligerently, at the same time start- 
ing that big arm of his swinging dan- 
gerously again. 

"' Look out ! " shouted the little fel- 
low, whose grip on the other's arm had 
been shaken off easily. 

Already a crowd of people was rap- 
idly collecting about us, men running 
from all directions to sec the commo- 
tion. A street light in Xew York can 
produce an audience quicker than any 
other attraction on earth. 

I did not relish such notoriety, but 
my antagonist had accompanied his 
swinging arm with a few low-spoken 
words which were anything but com- 
plimentary. 

" Here! " I said to the little chap be- 
side me whose cause I was champion- 
ing. 

I gave him the tin box to hold and 
threw up my guard, swinging my own 
right as a certain notable ring-artist 
had once taught me. 

My opponent's demeanor suddenly 
changed. A slinking look came over 
his bullying face, and, apparently losing 
all desire for an encounter on seeing 
my readiness, turned and ducked 
quickly through the crowd. 

I started after him, but the curious 
onlookers had pressed in about me. and 
he was soon out of sight. 

I looked around for the little chap 
with the tin box. 

And he also had disappeared. 

"Some swift side-stepping. Cliff 
Ellis."' a familiar voice murmured be- 
hind me. " some swift side-stepping, old 
pal." 

I spun round on my heel. Mr. Gim- 
let-eyes was looking up into my 
countenance with that all-embracing 
smile of his. 

" Or, as one would say. in the lan- 
guage of the classics: Stung! " he sup- 
plemented unnecessarily. 

I could not muster even a stage grin. 
But I had once worked among 'long- 
shoremen, and I now recalled some 
of their inimitable language, giving 
audible expression to my recollections. 

The crowd of disappointed fight- 



fans had melted as swiftly as it gath- 
ered. We two stood there facing each 
other, under the garish lights of the 
Great White Way. 

" Pretty tough, old pal," that cavern- 
mouth was voicing in mock sympathy. 
" Pretty tough after pulling that ven- 
triloquist stuff, to fall down thusly. 
Ah, well, 'tis the fortune of war." 

" Cease your idle prattle," I said, 
recovering somewhat of my aplomb. 
*' Tell me — how did you stage this act 
on such short notice ? " 

There was far more than the ordi- 
nary amount of curiosity in my tones. 

" Fate was kind, brother — very 
kind," he obliged cheerfully. " No 
sooner had you turned the corner of 
my street than my two men appeared 
coming from Sixth Avenue. And as 
we three followed swiftly in your foot- 
steps I originated the act then and 
there, and rehearsed them in their parts. 
Pretty good for a first performance, 
eh?" 

" Very good," I agreed with sorrow. 

" It is kind of you to say so," he 
murmured. " Actors are so terribly 
jealous of each other these days. Well, 
I must be going. The little fellow 
whose wife was stolen will be back to 
the three-room flat with the tin box 
by this time. He's a fine sprinter for 
his size. Oh, I've just thought of a 
new song : 

" I stoic the box. and along you came, 
You stole it from me and I stole it 

again. 
O-ho ! He-ho ! " 

Again a vision of coal sliding down 
a scuttle was suggested to me as he 
sang. 

" Am I to infer that you have again 
arrived at a conclusion, as in the case 
of your former selection? " I inquired 
humbly. 

" You are." 

" Which is? 

" That you are going to call again 
soon at my three-room flat, to see if 
you cannot presume upon our friend- 
ship to extract from me the informa- 
tion which the tin box contains. That 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



883 



is my conclusion which goes with my 
song." 

" I believe yon are a mind-reader, 
after all.*' 1 voiced admiringly. '■ So 
you consider me a friend? " 

" Perhaps." 

He was staring at my hand with 
those search-light orbs of his. 

'* Ah, that explains it," he said softly, 
as if communing with himself. 

" Explains what ? " 
W hy. you now have the ring on 
your finger. While you were in that 
crowd a minute ago. I was very much 
disappointed on going through your' 
various pockets not to be able to get 
my lingers on it. Some swift side- 
stepping there. Cliff, old boy. Good 
night.'"" 

As I stood watching him in open ad- 
miration as he hurried back down 
Broadway, whistling the crazy air of 
his little ditty at the top of his lungs, 
there was no answering joy in my heart 
for song. But, like him. I had also 
come to a conclusion, which 1 mur- 
mured sorrowfully to myself. It was 
this : 

" Any mortal who judges your brains 
by your idiotic music is doomed to a 
sad awakening sooner or later — mostly 
sooner." 

CHAPTER X. 

THE BOXELESS MAN. 

With such a remarkably resourceful 
rascal as Mr. Gimlet-eyes to deal with, 
it behooved me to get this much-sought- 
after ring in a safer place than about 
my person. The next thing I realized 
he would be working some original 
scheme to slip it from my finger with- 
out my knowing I had lost it. 

The respect I had felt for him an 
hour ago had increased a hundred- 
fold. After being robbed of the tin 
box in this brazen way. T didn't doubt 
for a minute that T would soon be bereft 
of the ring if I did not soon dispose of 
it somewhere. 

I boarded an up-town surface car, 



determined to place the ring in the hotel 
safe for the time being; then I would 
journey back to Max Leidner's house 
and see if Doris Armont needed my 
services. In those few short blocks, as 
I sat in the car, I speculated with a con- 
suming curiosity upon the various 
phases of this riddle of the ring. 

I stared in fascination at the odd 
gold baiad encircling my finger. What 
a strange history it must possess — and 
Doris had hidden it away since she was 
seven years old, and yet knew nothing 
about it! 

But of its importance there could be 
no doubt. George Armont had shad- 
owed its owner all the way from Ber- 
lin to secure it : and here in New York 
appeared his clever sister, Kronholtz 
and his man. and Gimlet-eyes and his 
two allies — all completely absorbed in 
the ruby-incrusted ring, and going 
through a variety of unheard-of ma- 
neuvers to possess it. 

The chances my late partner in crime 
had taken to secure the tin box proved 
just how imperative this affair of the 
ring was to him. Who was he? What 
could he possibly gain by its posses- 
sion? He was no ordinary gentleman 
of the highway, that was certain. I 
believed him when he said that he 
was merely "acting the thief,'' like 
myself. 

With no solution to all my self-pro- 
pounded queries, I alighted from the 
car at Forty-Second Street, at least 
happy in the thought that the resource- 
ful person who had robbed me of the 
tin box had not also taken the ring. In 
five minutes I emerged from the hotel, 
having witnessed the cashier stow the 
precious ornament in the safe along 
with other valuables. And I breathed a 
great sigh of relief. 

In another minute I was in a taxicab,' 
gliding swiftly toward the residence on 
Madison Avenue. This brought back 
to my mind all those strange mysteries 
connected with the house of sorcery 
which the pursuit of the ring had"rele- 
gatcd to the background for the last two 
hours. 



884 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



I thought of the inexplicable plight 
of the girl to whom I had this day been 
betrothed — of the extraordinary in- 
fluence the laughable, bent-boned Leid- 
ner exercised over her — of our strange 
marriage agreement — of the odd hap- 
penings in that house on Seventy- 
Second Street — of my friend Jim 
Bradworth's unaccountable connection 
with the affairs of Leidner. 

W hen I came to that I had to take 
myself firmly in hand and deliberately 
-shut the matter from my mind, for if 
I again commenced revolving the riddle 
of " W ho is Jim Bradworth, if he is not 
himself?" this taxicab would surely 
land me in the insane ward of Bellevue 
Hospital instead of Max Leidner's 
home. 

As if all this jumble of mysteries was 
not enough, I had now been confronted 
with the riddle of the ring. 

Good Heavens — did any mortal ever 
tumble into such a brain-baffling mix-up 
all in one short day! And some folks 
contend that life in a big city like New 
York is prosaic, humdrum, uneventful! 

With a " What's going to hit me 
next? " air, I walked up the steps of the 
Madison Avenue house, after dismiss- 
ing the taxicab. I felt reasonably sure 
that Doris had not retired for the night : 
she would be waiting for me, as I had 
promised over the telephone to rejoin 
her. 

I opened the door with my key. All 
was quiet. The gas chandelier was 
burning low in the hall. The front room 
was dark, but a stream of light in the 
rear room penetrated from between the 
faded red portieres, which were now 
drawn back across the connecting door- 
way. So I closed the hall-door behind 
me softly, and tiptoed into that front 
room. 

An astounding sight met my aston- 
ished eyes. 

The rear room was lighted by a red- 
shaded lamp, which stood upon a small 
round mahogany table. The place was 
even more scantily furnished than the 
room in which I stood. 

Two armchairs, an old-fashioned 



high-backed settee, and a tattered rug 
here and there — that was all." But seat- 
ed on the settee was the most outland- 
ish-looking creature I ever saw — ex- 
cepting .Max Leidner. 

He appeared like an East Indian, 
judging by the color of his skin, and a 
slight facial resemblance to that nation- 
ality — but there the similarity ended. 

The man was clothed only in a loin- 
cloth and a flowing white robe, em- 
broidered with some Oriental material, 
which fell loosely from his shoulders 
to the floor. It was caught about his 
neck by a silken cord. The garment 
had no sleeves — merely armholes — 
through these his bare arms hung. 

And such arms ! They dangled limp- 
ly at his sides, seemingly boneless; but 
even while I watched he moved them 
and they twisted this way and that, with 
a sinuous, gliding motion like two 
snakes! His bare limbs also protruded 
from the folds of the white rtbe. And 
they were twined limply about each 
other like pieces of string! 

His body moved while T was observ- 
ing this, and it was just as sinuous as 
his arms and legs. His neck oscillated 
from side to side. But his face was 
even more remarkable. The swarthy, 
sharp features were repellent and 
brutal ; and with every expression his 
whole countenance responded — his 
nose, chin, and cheeks moving with the 
suppleness of a piece of rubber. 

The man was apparently absolutely 
boneless ! 

It was the same specter whose ghost- 
like appearance as he flung up the stairs 
while I was talking to Max Leidner a 
few hours ago had momentarily de- 
prived me of the power of speech. 

But even more startling to me than 
the mere sight of this creature was what 
I had observed in the first comprehen- 
sive glance. 

Sitting beside this unearthly creature, 
her beautiful head resting on his shoul- 
der, weeping, while low sobs struck my 
ears — was Doris Armont! 

After the first shock this astounding 
tableau administered to me had partly 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



885 



subsided, a great wave of passion seized 
me. I Cere was this surpassingly beauti- 
ful girl — my fiancee — resting her head 
upon the shoulder of a creature neither 
man nor beast, and sobbing her heart 
out to him ! 

I don't know just what restrained me 
from leaping into that room and stran- 
gling him, so infuriated was I with 
blind, overwhelming jealousy! It was 
the first warning I had had of just how 
dear that girl had already become to me 
in a few short hours' acquaintance. 

Restrain myself I did, however, half 
paralyzed. I judge, by the fascination of 
this weird spectacle. 

In a few moments her sobs ceased, 
and, still resting her head upon his 
shoulder, she looked up into his beast- 
like face with glistening eyes, both love 
and pity unmistakably expressed on her 
perfect features! Then she began speak- 
ing in a low tone, but 1 could not catch 
her words. 

Ever and anon the repulsive tiling be- 
side her either nodded or shook bis head 
in response, with a quick, snappy mo- 
tion as if his neck operated on springs. 
Evidently he had no power of speech. 

] le only stared straight ahead of him. 
with his sharp, glistening black eyes. 
At last Doris Armont raised her glori- 
ous head from his shoulder, and the 
creature prepared to rise. 

His legs, twisted round each other, 
freed themselves like two reptiles un- 
coiling together. Slowly his sinuous 
body straightened, and he rose up on 
those extraordinary limbs. When he 
stood erect he was over six feet in 
height. 

For a long moment he remained thus, 
surveying the girl, while she met his 
glance with that same look of mingled 
love and pity. Then he turned swiftly, 
as easily as a top spins round, and 
passed to the hall door with great 
strides. 

Yet the movements of his limbs could 
not be called strides, either. It was a 
different walk than that possessed by 
any living man or beast. The knees did 
not bend, neither did the heel first leave 



the floor before the toes. The only thing 
1 can accurately compare his legs to is 
the gliding, curved body of a reptile 
passing along the ground — with the dif- 
ference that they were perpendicular. 

Each limb curved backward and for- 
ward several times with every step, in- 
stantly straightening as soon as the foot 
touched the floor, to again curve and 
t wist with the succeeding step. As soon 
as the sole of the foot came in contact 
with the floor it sprang away again like 
a rubber ball, causing the creature's 
body to move forward with astounding 
ease and smoothness. 

He disappeared in the hall without a 
sound, and almost instantly I spied him 
passing the door of the darkened room 
in which I stood. In another instant 
he had bounded up the stairway three 
or four steps at a time, without the 
slightest sound, his flying white robe 
trailing behind, giving him the appear-, 
ance of an apparition. I was convinced 
then and there that he could have 
cleared the whole stairway just as easily 
in one bound. 

As I stood staring after that specter 
a queer feeling came over me that I had 
gazed upon an inhabitant of some other 
planet. The creature certainly pos- 
sessed physical powers that no mortal 
ever did. What was it ? Where had it 
come from ? 

Then I recalled that it seemed to un- 
derstand the girl's words ; so, dazed and 
stupefied, I glanced in the other room 
again. 

Doris was sitting staring before her, 
body bent forward, hands clasped, a 
look of utter misery upon her face. I 
remembered those tears she had shed 
while sobbing on that being's shoulder: 
the look of pity — yes. even love — upon 
her features ! 

And all for such a beast! The 
thought was too much. I strode for- 
ward from the darkness of that room 
and stood framed in the doorway be- 
tween the red portieres. 

She looked up, startled, and stared at 
me, her big brown eyes wide with 
fright. 



886 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" Oh— it is— you ! " 

" Yes," I said, rather curtly. I must 
admit. I strode forward into the room 
and stood over her, my accusing eyes 
fixing hers sternly. 

" Wh-when did you arrive?" she 
stammered. 

'* In time to see the — performance," 
I retorted dryly. 

" You saw him? " 

"Yes — saw you weeping on his 
shoulder. Have you anything — er — to 
say? I queried coldly. 

She stared past me, her fingers twist- 
ing nervously, her face perplexed and 
troubled. Then she arose and stood 
looking straight into my eyes. 

" I'm sorry you witnessed — this." she 
began, her voice shaken. " You cannot 
possibly comprehend the situation, and 
I — dare not tell you." 

" Why?" 

" Max Leidncr has forbidden me." 

" Have I not some rights, as your 
fiance, to be enlightened a little as to 
your conduct with this — er — man. 
beast, or whatever it is?" I asked. Ut- 
terly exasperated. 

"'Oh, Cliff." she implored, calling me 
by my surname for the first time, as she 
looked at me pitifully with beseeching 
eves. " I don't know what to say — what 
to tell you without divulging the whole 
thing. ' And I cannot do that — must not 
— no, no ! " 

" How many matters are there which 
transpire in this house of which you 
dare not speak? " I asked, beginning to 
lose my temper. " I should think this 
affair between you and Leidner is 
sufficient." 

" And this is that same matter." her 
words came quietly. 

" What? " I ejaculated, dum founded. 

" Yes — about this man you saw here 
a moment ago revolves the whole affair 
between Leidner and myself." 

" Good Heavens!" I gasped, and 
sank into a chair, staring at her in utter 
hewilderment. " You are willing to 
marry me — a stranger — or any one else 
Leidner might have chosen, because of 
that — that creature ? " 



" Xot — not exactly on his account," 
the girl answered, looking entirelv 
miserahle. " Oh, Cliff, I wish I could 
tell you all — all ! But I cannot — my lips 
are sealed. 

" Please — please won't you have 
faith in me — won't you believe in me 
and try to bear all this in patience and 
fortitude? You will know all as soon 
as we are married. I'd give my right- 
arm to tell you ! 

" I know exactly what a monstrous 
thing the whole affair must appear to 
you. Oh — I'm so sorry Leidner ever 
selected you — for your sake ! " 

She turned and sank prostrate on the 
settee with a stifled sob and buried her 
face in the pillows. 

My jealous anger and suspicions van- 
ished as if they never had found lodg- 
ment in my being. I fell on my knees 
by the settee, and put my arm about her 
shaking shoulders, and caressed her hair 
soothingly with my hand. 

" Doris — my Doris," I whispered en- 
treatingly. " Please don't ! Forgive me 
for hurting you. I'm a brute! You 
have more to bear now without me ma- 
king you miserable. I have faith in you 
for anything. Xo matter what may hap- 
pen from now on I swear I w ill not mis- 
trust you again. Please don't cry ! Say 
you forgive me. won't you. dear? " 

Quickly her sobbing ceased. She 
lifted her head from the pillows and sat 
erect. 

Her arms stretched toward me and 
she took my head between her dear 
hands and gazed into my eyes with her 
own brimming with unshed tears! 

A contented smile came over her 
glorious features. Slowly her head bent 
toward me. and she pressed her warm 
red lips to mine in a long, lingering kiss 
which sent the blood rioting through 
my veins ! 

"Forgive you?" she whispered 
ecstatically. " Dearest, it is I that must 
beg your forgiveness. You are won- 
derful — wonderful! No man ever did 
for a woman what you are doing for 
me! Oh, I'm so happy now — so 
happy ! " 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



887 



"Why, dear?" 

" Because I realize now that you love 
me — for myscl f alone." She buried her 
head on my shoulder, her warm cheek 
pressed close to mine. 

For a long minute we remained thus. 
I could have stayed in that delicious 
position for hours — but there was work 
to do. Gently I raised her head and 
kissed her for the first time full on 
those red lips. Then I rose and seated 
myself beside her. 

" Let's not discuss this — this matter 
any more," I said. " Assume that it 
never happened — that I never saw it. 
I want to tell you about your ring." 

" Oh. yes — the ring! " 

She snuggled close in my arms, and 
in the intoxication of her body against 
mine I forgot for the time that only a 
few minutes before she had been sitting 
in this very place with her head upon 
that unearthly beast's shoulder. 

I recounted briefly all the salient 
points in the pursuit of the ring. When 
I finished she sat lost in wondering 
thought for several minutes. 

" I do not understand — it is a com- 
plete mystery to me." 

'• Yes — to' me also.*' T replied. "'But 
it will not be a mystery much longer. 
I have a plan whereby I think I can 
extract some information from this 
woman whose name also is Doris Ar- 
mont. If not. I think that Mr. Gimlet- 
Eyes can enlighten me. Have you any 
relative bearing the same name as your- 
self?" 

" No," she answered, puzzled. " Xot 
to my knowledge." 

T rose at last, and she accompanied me 
to the door. 

" I'll see )'OU early in the morning." 
I said. " Guess I'll be pretty busy the 
rest of the night, by the appearance of 
things. Good night, Doris! " 

CHARTER XI. 

DORIS ARMONT NO. 2. 

Peremptorily dismissing from my 
mind for the present all thoughts of the 



strange episode of the boneless being I 
had just encountered in the house of 
sorcery, I hurried westward through 
the side street toward Broadway, pass- 
ing the point where at five o'clock that 
afternoon I had greeted my friend Jim 
Bradworth. 

Somewhere a bell was chiming the 
hour of midnight. 

I had evolved a plan for again meet- 
ing Doris Armont No. 2, and endeavor- 
ing by a little subterfuge to extract 
from her the riddle of the ring. 

I had remembered her brother's 
warning over the telephone to Kron- 
holtz respecting the two friends who 
were shadowing him; also evidently 
interested in the ring. And after my 
experience with Mr. Gimlet-Eyes' two 
men, it somehow struck me forcibly that 
they were the individuals in question. 

In my contemplated interview with 
the girl, it was my plan to pose as the 
agent for these parties. I would tell 
her that they had employed me to secure 
the ring, without enlightening me in the 
least concerning its history. And now. 
after successfully accomplishing my 
mission, I had led them to believe that I 
had not yet secured it. 

My reason for this, I would tell her, 
was that T had been convinced of its 
impqrtance to so many people, and 
therefore considered my services worth 
more than they were paying me. 

Consequently, if she could show me 
where it was worth my while to play 
the game with her, she could have the 
ring. 

It was a long shot — but there was 
just a bare possibility that it might score 
a bull's-eye. I had been taking such 
ticklish chances all my life, and I rather 
relished the prospects this adventure 
opened up to my imagination. 

Before my theatrical career had made 
of me an eminently respectable in- 
dividual in the eyes of society, I had 
led an existence which, though not 
criminal, was nothing to brag about. 

Suffice it to say that necessity had 
long ago sharpened my wits and taught 
me how to employ my humble talents to 



888 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



the best possible advantage in a pinch, 
and I had been in several such. 

So I entered a telephone booth in a 
Broadway drug-store and called the 
girl's number. I was certain that she 
would not have yet retired. There 
would be little sleep in apartment Xo. 
12 this night. 

And then came the " Hello " in that 
feminine voice 1 had learned so well. 

" Hello," I replied. " This is the 
party who left you some time ago in 
the Willington Hotel. I am anxious to 
meet you concerning that ring.'' 

" Yes — why — where? " came her be- 
wildered voice. 

" At the Willington again. You 
must not inform any one. The matter 
is confidential between us. Where is 
your brother? " 

" He is with Kronholtz somewhere, 
looking — " 

'* Yes : I understand. Can you meet 
me at once ? " 

" Yes." came her eager response. 

" Good. You will not be sorry. I'll 
be waiting at the entrance of the Will- 
ington for you. Flease hurry." 

" I'll be there in ten minutes," she re- 
plied promptly. 

" Yery well. Good-by." 

I hung up the receiver and walked 
toward the Willington. very much 
elated with the success of my little 
scheme thus far. I entered the hotel 
and arranged for a private dining-room. 
Then I took my station at the street en- 
trance and waited. 

I had not long to wait. A taxirib 
drew to the curb, coming from the 
south. 

The chauffeur alighted, held open the 
door, and the girl with the orange plume 
in her hat stepped quickly to the side- 
walk and advanced toward me. smiling 
with those uncommon eyes of hers. 

" Rather an unusual hour to make an 
appointment," I answered her smile, 
doffing my hat: " but the matter is im- 
perative." 

" Yes, I understand." she responded 
in her musical tones. " I see you are 
quite — er — sober now." 



She was glancing at me roguishly 
out of the corner of her eye. 

" Quite," I retorted laughingly as I 
conducted her inside. " I have ar- 
ranged for a private dining-room where 
we can talk without interruption." 

She nodded her head. An attendant 
conducted us up-stairs to a cozy little 
room and left us there to summon a 
waiter. 

The girl was quite at ease. She 
placed on the table the gold mesh-bag 
which I knew so well and surveyed her- 
self in an immense gilt-framed mirror, 
dabbing at her hair, as women will. 

" Will you have supper, or do you 
only care to refresh yourself with 
some champagne while we talk?" I 
asked. 

" Just champagne, thank you," she 
smiled back through the mirror. 

The waiter appeared, and I ordered. 
We seated ourselves at opposite sides 
of the square table set for two, and she 
surveyed me appraisingly — with a cer- 
tain frank admiration in her changeable 
eyes. 

" Will you please imitate my voice? " 
she said at last a propos of nothing. 

I obliged promptly by saying in her 
exact tones : " I'll hold him till you ar- 
rive — the drunken fool ! " 

She gasped. 

" Well, I'm convinced now," she 
said. 

"Of what?" 

" When Kronholtz and my brother 
told me how you had fooled them over 
the phone I told them very plainly just 
what idiots they were. But they 
weren't. I was." 

The waiter returned with the liquid 
refreshment, served two glasses, and 
retired, closing the door. 

" Now we can talk undisturbed," I 
said. " Here's to a better acquaint- 
ance." 

She touched her glass to mine play- 
fully, and laughingly added : " Here's 
hoping your wife does not telephone 
you before we are through." 

"Xo: there will be no telephoning 
this trip," I assured. 



THE HOUSE OE SORCERY. 



889 



"And, not satisfied with the ring, 
you had to steal the tin box, too," she 
said, shaking her head approvingly. 

" Oh, so you discovered its loss? " 

" Yes ; my brother did. I asked him 
to describe the two detectives. And 
one of them was the 'drunken fool' 
whom I knew — alas! to my sorrow." 

" How did your brother get back so 
quickly to the apartment?" I asked 
curiously. " I figured T would have at 
least an hour to search." 

'* Why, Kronholtz's man quickly lost 
patience waiting at the Garford and 
came back to the writing-room down- 
stairs to see why I couldn't get rid of 
you. The carriage attendant on the 
sidewalk had observed yon walk down 
Broadway, so we spent half an hour in 
a wild-goose chase. 

" .Meanwhile my brother at the St. 
Claire also became impatient and came 
here looking for me. Not finding any 
one. he started back for the house, 
having a suspicion that something was 
wrong." 

" Must have been some excitement 
when you all got together and com- 
pared notes," I hinted. 

" Rather. Kronholtz's man and my- 
self came back to the writing-room in 
a vain hope of meeting you. Even 
then I was not sure that I had been 
tricked. 

" I thought you might have gone in 
search of a few more drinks. Intoxi- 
cated persons are so erratic, you know. 
But you were still missing. 

" Then I reluctantly realized I had 
been outrageously fooled. I telephoned 
my brother, who had returned to the 
apartment by that time. He came here 
at once. 

" Meanwhile we phoned Kronholtz, 
who also joined us. T guess T heard 
some choice language from those two 
after we all told our little stories. My! 
but men can loose their language on oc- 
casions. 

" When my brother described you as 
one of the detectives T suggested that 
he go back to the apartment and look 
for the tin box. 



" We all returned together, and if 
you had been there then murder would 
surely have been done this night. It 
was pretty work — very pretty," she 
concluded, sipping her wine, her ex- 
pressive eyes alight with wondering 
admiration. And she was very cool and 
unconcerned withal. 

" How did you learn about the red 
carnation ? " she asked at last. 

" Oh. I was employed by certain 
people to watch you folks," I replied 
easily, putting emphasis on the " cer- 
tain." " Happened to be hanging round 
the hall when No. 7 2 appeared on the 
switchboard. The hall-boy was up- 
stairs with the elevator, so I obliged. 
Thus I got your brother's instructions 
to Kronholtz." 

" Well, we figured it out that way," 
she said. " but couldn't realize just how 
it was accomplished. The elevator-boy 
swore he hadn't answered the call, and 
we at once suspected him of being 
mixed up in it somehow. It is all plain 
now, though." 

" Very simple." I supplemented. 

" No — it was the most complicated 
sleight-of-hand I ever participated in," 
she affirmed with a positive shake of 
her head. " And that impersonation 
of the inebriated gentleman was quite 
the most convincing acting that any one 
ever performed. You would certainly 
have made a wonderful actor," she 
volunteered frankly. 

" Do you think so?" I asked inno- 
cently. 

"1. can't place you among the noto- 
rious gentlemen of fortune," she con- 
tinued, a little perplexed frown on her 
forehead. "What name do the — er — 
authorities know you by? " 

" They've never got close enough to 
me to know me by any name," I lied 
easily. " My — er — little exploits are 
generally executed in such a way that 
some other poor devil receives the hon- 
ors from the police." 

"Ah. I can readily believe that!" 
she rejoined, laughing merrily. 

Again she fell to sipping at her glass, 
her wonderful eyes meanwhile study- 



890 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



ing my face with a certain impudent 
frankness which showed to me an un- 
usually clever mind in back of them. 
In this unusual situation, knowing how 
I had cpme into possession of the ring 
and tin box which was so all important 
to her, she was seemingly as indifferent 
and unconcerned as any young lady 
merely enjoying an after-theater sup- 
per with her escort. 

Any other woman could not have 
thus long contained her curiosity, but 
would have immediately inquired as to 
the object of this meeting. And yet 
I knew that her natural feminine in- 
stinct to be enlightened was consuming 
her. 

" Now that we understand each other 
better." I smiled. " I'll explain my rea- 
son for wishing to see you." 

.She nodded her head. and. producing 
a gold cigarette-case from her bag, se- 
lected one of its dainty little contents. 
I furnished a light, and. with a " Thank 
you," she placed it to her lips with a 
practised hand and raised her arching 
eyebrows a trifle as a signal for me to 
proceed. 

" As I stated before." T continued, 
"certain parties employed me to watch 
you and your brother, with the object 
of securing the ring." 

" Yes, I know them — Cutler and 
Warnham," she nodded. 

" Yes— Cutler and Warnham." I 
confirmed, glad to get this important 
information so easily. 

" And who is this other party who 
played detective with you ? " she 
queried. 

" Oh. I secured him to help me." I 
lied glibly. " An old confederate of 
mine who works well in harness with 
me." 

" Fie does." she assented with a con- 
vincing nod of her head. 

" Well, Cutler and Warnham left me 
absolutely in the dark as to why they 
wanted the ring and tin box. All I 
knew was that it was up to me to get 
them. But after getting into the game 
and seeing all the complicated maneu- 
vers its transfer entailed it struck me 



that my services in the matter were 
worth far more than even the large 
commission they promised me." 

" They probably are," she said en- 
couragingly, watching me with mo- 
mentarily increasing interest. 

" Well," I drawled, puffing on my 
own cigarette and leaning a little for- 
ward as I looked her straight in the 
eyes, " I'm open to any proposition you 
care to make me for that ring and tin 
box. But it must be a good one." 

She took several meditative puffs, 
never losing my glance for a moment. 
Her face was impassive, but her eyes 
shot forth a myriad of expressions, 
seeming to change color chameleonlike 
with each photographed thought of 
their owner. 

At last she deftly flicked the ash with 
her dainty little finger and said quietly: 

" If I was sure of you, I could name 
you a reward which would beat any- 
thing you ever obtained for any of your 
no doubt numerous clever exploits." 

" It would have to go some," I re- 
piled. " But what proof do you want 
that I am playing fair with you? " 

" I — don't — know," she hesitated. 
" This is a big game — a very big game. 
You haven't the faintest conception 
just how big it is. I must be cau- 
tious." 

" Evidently your game is dead, 
though, without possession of the ring." 
I hazarded. 

" It is," she agreed frankly. 

" What's the answer, then'? " I asked 
indifferently. " I've got the ring. You 
want it, and I'm willing to let you have 
it — for a price. I'm perfectly fair with 
you. There is no sentiment in this thing 
with me. A matter of business — pure 
and simple." 

Again she puffed meditatively for a 
full minute, her lightning brain ap- 
praising me shrewdly with the assist- 
ance of those two unusual eyes. 

" Do you know," she began at last 
smilingly, leaning over the table toward 
me, " I've taken a great liking to you? 
I admire any one who can fool me. 
You're the first man I've ever been 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



891 



able to admire that way — for you're the 
first who ever fooled me." 

" Thank you,'' I murmured. 

" You speak of your price,"' came 
her musical tones softly. " I could 
name you a price that would astound 
you. But the reward I have in mind 
to offer is even better than that. But 
it will require you to live a lie for the 
rest of your life — to bury your identity 
in that of another. 

" And yet it is easy — and the reward 
is princely. For such a stake do you 
think you would be willing to live such 
a lie?" she finished, staring at me in- 
tently, her eyes alight with the gravity 
of that which was in her mind. 

1 would," T answered without a 
moment's hesitation. " Life is one big 
game of poker to me. I'll play my 
hand as you want me to if you'll let me 
sit in this game — and deal fair." 

" I'll deal fair." she responded, her 
breath coming quickly, her mobile fea- 
tures expressive of a supreme delight 
at my answer. " I knew you'd play." 
she added happily. " And when I get 
through talking you'll bless your lucky 
stars that you decided to see me before 
turning over that ring. And now I'm 
going to tell you the whole story. You 
and I will work together on this thing 
— share and share alike." 

" Let her go." I encouraged, leaning 
back comfortably in my chair to listen. 



CHAPTER XII. 

I SOLVE TIIi; RING RIDDLE. 

" But first — have you really got that 
ring? " asked my companion cautiously. 
" You didn't turn it over to Cutler or 
Warnham ? " 

" If you'll wait here about fifteen 
minutes, I'll go and get it," I volun- 
teered. 

" Never mind ; I believe you. Let 
me see — it is a long story, and I might 
as well begin at the beginning. In the 
first place, my name is not Doris Ar- 
mont, and neither is the other party my 
brother." 



" Really! " I exclaimed, with quite a 
little genuine surprise. 

" What our real names are is imma- 
terial just now. Suffice it to say that 
this ring is the property of a girl named 
Doris Armont, who is about my own 
age. She has owned it since she was 
a mere child, without realizing its his- 
tory or its value. 

By chance this man who passes as 
my brother became mixed up in the 
affair in this way: He has done certain 
work of a more or less shady nature 
for a man who stands high in affairs 
of state in Germany. His name is 
Count Stalheim. A month ago my 
partner, George Armont — as we will 
call him for convenience — while in 
Berlin, was introduced by Count Stal- 
heim to the affair of the ring. And 
the story the count told him was this: 

" Prince Ferdinand Helfonstein, the 
last of a long line of princes of the 
House of Helfonstein, had visited 
America some twenty-seven odd years 
ago, while yet a young man. He was 
traveling incognito. 

" He met a very beautiful and ac- 
complished young widow in Detroit, 
fell desperately in love with her, like a 
true scion of his royal race, and mar- 
ried her. He disclosed to her his iden- 
tity, of course, but assured her that he 
could overcome all family objections 
to his alliance with one who was not 
of royal blood, as he was the younger 
son and his brother had therefore fallen 
heir to the castle and estates, and also 
the title of Prince of Helfonstein upon 
his father's death two years before. 

" But it so happened that he received 
a cable shortly after his honeymoon, 
just as he was planning to take his 
American bride back home. And the 
despatch informed him that his brother 
had been thrown from a horse, instant- 
ly killed — and thus he was now the 
reigning prince of the House of Hel- 
fonstein. 

" Well, Prince Ferdinand, head of 
the House of Helfonstein as he now 
was, realized that his marriage to his 
bride would never be countenanced, 



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and that it would mean the losing of all 
the family inheritance — everything. 
He would be an outcast. 

" He went back home to assume his 
duties, promising his wife that he 
would endeavor to influence the powers 
that be to took favorably upon his 
marriage. And meanwhile his wife 
waited and waited, but the reports he 
sent her were entirely discouraging. 

" A daughter was born of this mar- 
riage, and shortly after the mother died, 
evidently of a broken heart. She real- 
ized that her husband had practically 
deserted her. She had moved to an- 
other city after Prince Ferdinand de- 
parted, assumed the name of her first 
husband, and so the child of the prince 
was known as — " 

'* Doris Armont,'' I murmured like 
one in a dream. 

Everything about me was swimming 
hazily before my eyes; my own voice 
sounded very strange and distant to my 
ears. 

" Yes — how did you know? " asked 
the woman before me, with a start. 

" Oh," I said, pulling myself to- 
gether with a tremendous effort, " 1 
just surmised it." 

" Yes — of course," she assented. 
" That ring was given to Ferdinand by 
his father upon his death-bed. He was 
bis favorite son. The ring had been 
handed down from father to son for 
generations; it bears the coat of arms 
of the ancient House of Helfonstein — 
a shield with a lion's head and a mailed 
fist. And Ferdinand, on leaving for 
Germany, gave it to his bride as a token 
and a promise that he would return to 
claim her. 

" Of course he could not gain the 
consent of the ruling powers to recog- 
nize this morganatic marriage, as it 
was considered. And then he heard of 
his wife's death. He was filled with 
remorse — he was never the same man 
from that day until his death, two 
months ago. He never would consent 
to marry various women of royal blood 
who were selected for him, and so died, 
a broken-hearted man." 



I muttered some vague words under 
my breath, hardly able to follow this 
astounding recital. 

"Pardon me?" inquired my vis- 
a-vis. 

" Nothing at all," I hastened to say. 
" Please proceed." 

" His was a rather odd death, which 
has never been fully explained. In 
fact, it was a murder. Attendants, 
hearing a pistol-shot, rushed into his 
apartments in his castle outside a small 
German village and witnessed a most 
peculiar spectacle. 

" Prince Ferdinand stood with a 
smoking revolver in his hand. But 
some unheard-of thing had happened 
to him. PI is body was all bent and 
deformed, as if some giant had taken 
and crushed it. leaving the bones all 
misshapen — twisted in all sorts of 
grotesque shapes as no human bones 
were ever meant to be." 

I articulated some unintelligible 
thing aloud with a hoarse gasp and 
half rose from my chair, only to fall 
back, weak and inert. I was thinking 
of Max Leidner — it was his descrip- 
tion ! 

" Go on — go on ! " I uttered weakly 
to the girl. " Such things exercise my 
imagination — I am so susceptible," I 
added, in explanation of my over- 
whelming astonishment. 

" The attendants hardly recognized 
their master, so transformed and ugly 
was his poor broken body. Prince 
Ferdinand pointed to something on 
the floor and waved them out of the 
room frantically. 

" ' Go,' he commanded, ' or you will 
meet my fate ! ' 

" They tumbled out, and he fol- 
lowed them. And in the presence of 
some -of his guests he told as best he 
could what awful calamity had over- 
taken him. 

" It appears that when a young man, 
before his visit to America, there had 
lived on this estate a poor peasant 
woman with a son who had been ter- 
ribly deformed since birth. The un- 
fortunate was in his early twenties at 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



893 



that time, and it appears that one day 
while Prince Ferdinand was riding 
past the peasant's cottage, he saw this 
youth, all bent and deformed, in the 
doorway. 

" The prince spoke to him. and when 
the young man answered his jaw wab- 
bled in such a crazy way that it moved 
Ferdinand to laughter. The boy was 
so enraged that he hurled some vile 
names at him, and so incensed was the 
prince that he had him and his mother 
driven from the village. 

" No more was seen or heard of him 
till, on this night two months ago. his 
misshapen form appeared outside one 
of the open windows in the mom 
where Prince Ferdinand sat quietly 
smoking. 

""Ha! Prince Ferdinand!' he 
called through the window. ' Thirty 
years ago you laughed at me ! He who 
"laughs last laughs best ! ' 

' V And with that he threw something 
into the room which he had concealed 
under a long black cloak. 

" It was an immense black cat, all 
twisted and deformed like himself. 
The beast came wabbling on its twist- 
ed legs toward the prince where he had 
arisen from his chair. 

" At the unearthly spectacle of this 
monstrous creature he backed away to- 
ward the wall, but the cat still followed 
him. its yellow eyes seeming to glare 
hypnotically. And as the prince leaned 
against the wall, paralyzed with fright, 
it advanced and rubbed its unsightly 
body against his limbs. 

" And then Prince Ferdinand said a 
strange feeling swept over him — like 
some mad fever racing through his 
veins. Every bone in his body seemed 
to melt into liquid. He sprang away 
from that frightful beast and. pulling 
a revolver he always carried, shot it. 

" Before the smoke cleared away his 
bones seemed to harden again. He 
said he could feel it — just as if a thou- 
sand darts of hard steel had shot 
through his body. 

" Even as he stood there staring at 
the dead cat his bones hardened instant- 



ly, permanently, and left his body all 
twisted and broken in that posture. So 
this was the astounding tale he told to 
those about him." 

My body was leaning far across the 
table, my mouth agape, my ears drink- 
ing in every word of her recital, which 
was given in a dramatic tone and with 
expressive gestures of her supple hands 
which would have done credit to any 
actress. For my part, I had forgotten 
myself entirely — too dum founded to 
act myself or attempt to play the role 
I had assumed with her. 

T was jolted clean out of my senses 
for the moment. Again I saw myself 
in that house of sorcery, a glass cage 
suspended from the ceiling, while the 
black cat. all twisted and malformed, 
glared at me with its yellow eyes: 

" Interesting, is it not? " she said, 
taking a true story-teller's pride in the 
impression she had made. 

" Yes — very interesting." I whis- 
pered, my lips and tongue dry and 
parched. 

" It is a long tale, you see." she said, 
half apologetically. " But I must tell 
it fully so that you will understand this 
little game of the ring." 

" Yes — of course. Omit nothing, 
please. I'm deeply interested. I assure 
you." 

If she only knew just what reasons 
I had for being interested ! 

'* Well, after a while they screwed 
up courage to go into the room and 
look at the dead cat. It was dissected 
and examined by scientists and medical 
experts, but they were all left hope- 
lessly at sea. The animal's flesh was 
apparently as normal and healthy as 
any other feline. 

" Only its bones were unusual. They 
were brown — almost black — and twist- 
ed in all sorts of weird shapes. And 
they were as hard as chilled steel. 
Apparently death rid the brute of all 
power to communicate the unheard-of 
disease to any living thing. 

" No sign of the perpetrator of the 
ghastly deed could be found anywhere. 
He had vanished as if the darkness of 



894 



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that fateful April night had swallowed 
him up. 

" As for Prince Ferdinand, the hor- 
rors of that night made of him a gib- 
hcring lunatic. His plight was pitiful. 
He was continually crying out : ' The 
cat — the cat ! Take it away ! ' But at 
last merciful death ended his misery. 

" Now we come to the real story in 
which you and I are interested. This 
Count Stalheim 1 mentioned, for whom 
George Armont had rendered certain 
services, told him what I have told you. 

" Oh. yes — I forgot to mention that 
Prince Ferdinand, for many years be- 
fore his death, had spent immense sums 
of money in hiring private detectives 
to search the world for his daughter, 
whose name is Doris Armont. The 
prince was filled with remorse for the 
manner in which he had deserted his 
bride years ago, and wanted to atone 
as much as possible by finding his 
daughter and settling a fortune upon 
her. 

" But it seems that the first husband 
of the deserted bride had left a for- 
tune, as well as a son. who was called 
George Armont. So Doris and her 
half-brother had ample money, with 
which they traveled in all parts of the 
world. Several times the prince's 
emissaries obtained slight clues of the 
girl's whereabouts, but they were never 
able to locate her. 

" But at last, a little over a month 
asro, after Ferdinand's death, this 
Count Stalheim, who was an enemy 
of the prince, heard that the girl was 
in Berlin, en route to America. 

" He was familiar with every detail 
of the story, as he had some trusted 
attendants in the prince's household 
who kept him closely informed — and. 
as luck would have it. this supposed 
brother of mine was executing a com- 
mission for the count at the time. 

" He was the very man he required 
for his scheme. So it was not long 
before my partner located the missing 
heiress in a Berlin hotel, where she was 
stopping, totally ignorant of the fact 
that her unknown father had died in 



his castle, only a few miles away from 
the German metropolis. 

" But this was not all the count had 
learned. He also had agents tracing 
the girl for years, in hopes of discover- 
ing something in connection with the 
prince's secret marriage which would 
not prove creditable. And he learned 
that which Prince Ferdinand's agents 
were unable to uncover. 

" It appears that his American bride 
had really been the young daughter of 
a prince whose family is directly re- 
lated to the reigning house of Austria. 
She eloped secretly with an American 
millionaire named Armont, and so in- 
censed was her father that he gave out 
the report that she had died while trav- 
eling in the United States. And from 
that day to this the report was never 
questioned, and she never came for- 
ward to establish her identity — not 
even informing her second husband, 
Prince Ferdinand, that she was of royal 
blood. 

She was proud; and when the 
prince chose between her and his title 
to reign over the House of Helfon- 
stein, she never enlightened him. 
Therefore the marriage was not mor- 
ganatic, after all; and if she had de- 
clared herself, she could have taken her 
place beside her husband. 

" What other reasons she might 
have had for keeping her identity hid- 
den from Prince Ferdinand I do not 
know. 

" Doris Armont is of royal blood on 
both sides, however; and her claim to 
the fortune and estates of the dead 
prince cannot be disputed. She is the 
sole survivor and lawful heir of the 
ancient House of Helfonstein. So 
now you can probably see the drift of 
this little affair of the ring." 

" Yes — of course — yes." I mur- 
mured in a daze, while the fact kept 
pounding in on my brain in a dull, 
monotonous iteration : " You found 
your dream-girl — only to lose her 
again." 

But my companion's low, even tones 
again recalled me. 



THE HOUSE OF SORCERY. 



895 



" And then Count Stalheim laid 
bare to my confederate his clever 
scheme: he was to shadow her night 
and day, and secure the monogrammed 
ring which Ferdinand had given the 
girl's mother over twenty - live years 
ago. 

" Years ago the detectives the prince 
had hired learned that an old nurse had 
been entrusted with the ring by the 
mother, to give to the girl when she 
was old enough to understand. The 
nurse died very suddenly, but it was 
reasonable to suppose that she had 
given the child the ring before she died. 

" As the girl had not come forward 
and established her identity, or com- 
municated with her father in any way, 
it was also reasonable to suppose that 
the nurse had not been able to tell her 
the secret of the ring before her sud- 
den death. These facts Count Stal- 
heim ascertained from his spies in the 
prince's household. 

" So it was really simple, after all. 
My partner was to secure the ring, and 
then he was to pose as the half-brother, 
George Armont, and I was selected to 
impersonate the missing heiress, Doris 
Armont. 

" He shadowed the girl to Xew 
York, and traced her to a house not 
far from here on Madison Avenue. 

" Now, it so happens that my con- 
federate was familiar with all the de- 
tails of Prince Ferdinand's strange 
death, as he was in the vicinity of the 
castle at the time. There he talked to 
several old inhabitants of the near-by 
village, who remembered this odd. 
misshapen creature when he had lived 
there as a youth with his mother. And 
what was his astonishment, on shadow- 
ing this house in which the girl lived, 
to see her emerge from it one after- 
noon two days ago with the deformed 
man — the murderer of her own 
father! " 

I gasped my simulated amazement 
as best I could. Of course, it was no 
news to me — but my informer could 
not appreciate that fact. 

" Yes — no other," continued the girl 



before me, enjoying the shock she 
thought she had administered to me. 

" My partner had heard each detail 
of this malformed creature's descrip- 
tion so often from the villagers that 
he knew no other creature could pos- 
sibly resemble him. And this fellow 
had that peculiar wabbling jaw, laugh- 
ing at which caused the prince's tragic 
death years later. 

'* Well, we puzzled over this remark- 
able coincidence for many solid hours, 
and could not make head nor tail of 
it. But time was precious, so my con- 
federate resolved on a desperate chance. 

" He visited this man in his home a 
few hours ago — to be exact, about nine 
o'clock. He told him bluntly that he 
knew who he was, and that if he did 
not secure the ring from the girl and 
turn it over he woidd communicate 
with the German authorities and have 
him extradited. He was living there 
under the name of Max Leidner — an 
assumed name. 

" The plan worked even better than 
we had dreamed possible. Leidner, as 
he now calls himself, left the room, 
and after a while returned with the 
ring. He evidently was unaware of 
who the girl really was, and seemed 
to know nothing at all about the article 
we wanted. 

" What mysterious hold he has over 
Doris Armont — whom my confederate 
says is the most beautiful woman he 
ever saw — is something which I can- 
not explain. But we do not have to 
bother ourselves with that — it is an 
outside matter to us." 

"Of course," I agreed, now having 
recovered somewhat of my wonted 
composure. But my companion did 
not know that it was anything but an 
" outside matter " to me. 

Doris Armont — my fiancee — was of 
royal blood and the only living survivor 
of the House of Helfonstein! Yes; I 
had found her — only to lose her again ! 
But I was forgetting my surroundings. 
I recalled myself with a start as the 
girl replaced her glass on the table after 
sipping it meditatively. 



896 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" And so he turned over the ring? " 
I queried. 

" Yes; and by the questions Leidner 
asked we know that he is entirely ig- 
norant of its history., Very few peo- 
ple even in the prince's immediate 
household knew of its existence; so it 
is therefore not strange that he also is 
in the dark. 

" And the fact that he could induce 
the girl to part with it so readily bears 
out our conviction that she, also, is 
ignorant of its significance. 

" So you see our work was not as 
hard as we anticipated. All we had to 
guard against were two men who for 
years had been employed in the service 
of Count Stalhcim, and who had exe- 
cuted several transactions for him in 
conjunction with my partner in Ger- 
many at different limes. 

" They became dissatified, these two, 
and the count had reliable information 
that they had followed my partner to 
New York and were going to try to 
get a hand in this game of the ring if 
possible. I don't know whether )'OU 
knew it before — but those men are your 
friends, Culler and Warnham." 

" No; I did not know," I answered 
truth fullv for once. " I told you I 
knew nothing about this matter. I 
worked with Cutler years ago on a 
certain deal in New York. I ran into 
him accidentally only yesterday morn- 
ing, and he arranged with me to go 
after this ring. What do they want 
with it, do you suppose ? " 

My curiosity was genuine. T was 
mighty anxious to know what Mr. 
Gimlet-Eyes — their employer — wanted 
with that ring. 

'* Oh. merely a case of blackmail," 
she responded readily. '' With the 
ring in their possession, they can sell 
it to Count Stalheim at an enormous 
figure." 

" I see," I said — and yet I felt that 
she was away off the true scent. 

It did not strike me that the pos- 
sessor of those search-light eyes — 
honest-appearing eyes — was merely in 
a petty little blackmailing scheme. His 



shrewd brain was after higger fish than 
that. 

" But what about the tin box I 
stole ? '' 1 queried with an interest I 
could barely conceal. 

" That," she enlightened, " is very 
important to Messrs. Cutler and Warn- 
ham, your confederates. It contains 
all the correspondence George Armont 
has had with Count Stalheim concern- 
ing this ring. 

" If your friends get hold of that, 
they can blackmail the count for any 
sum they choose to name. Such proof 
of the part he plays in the affair would, 
if published, ruin him completely — 
drive him from Germany, in fact." 

'• Urn— I see," I said. " And I 
thought they were paying me well for 
my work. Now I can appreciate what 
a rotten deal they were giving me — and 
I did all the big work, too. 

" But what has all this to do with 
the proposition you spoke of making 
me — living a lie for the rest of my 
life? " I queried, taking the bottle from 
its bed of ice and filling our glasses 
again. 

She was lighting another cigarette. 

" My proposition is simple," she re- 
plied, after a few meditative puffs. 
" You will impersonate George Ar- 
mont. the half-brother of Doris Ar- 
mont." 

" But I thought your confederate had 
that job," I propounded, taken com- 
pletely by surprise. 

" Do you remember what you said 
before I commenced my story?" she 
asked. " You remarked that there 
was no sentiment in this matter with 
you — purely business." 

'' Urn — I see. Meaning likewise that 
there is no sentiment in this matter 
with you? " 

" Exactly. It suits my purpose to 
have you as a half-brother with whom 
to enjoy the princely fortune, the es- 
tates and castles which my poor mur- 
dered father, Prince Ferdinand, has 
left me." 

She was smiling whimsically at me 
behind a blue wreath of smoke. 



THE HOUSE 

" Is it not worth living- a lie the rest 
of your life — for this? " 

" It is," I responded promptly. 

'■'Yon are with me, then?" she 
breathed, throwing her cigarette on a 
plate and leaning far forward across 
the table, her olive skin flushed, her 
eyes Hashing. 

" I am," I said, and gave her my 
hand upon it. 

" I knew you would ! " she cried, 
laughing almost hysterically. ** That's 
why I took a chance and let you in on 
the whole story. I knew a princely 
game such as this would appeal to 
you." 

" But how are you going to side- 
track your partner?" I queried inter- 
estedly. 

" You and I have the ring and the 
tin box, haven't we? That's all that is 
necessary — the ring will establish our 
identity. And Prince Stalheim will be 
perfectly willing to let you play the 
game. 

*' You are a born actor, and you can 
carry the part better than my present 
partner. I've been afraid he'd trip up, 
sooner or later. He's all right in his 
line. But this is a little bit over his 
head." 

" Very nice." I assented. " But he's 
not going to be side-tracked without 
making considerable noise." 

She smiled, a very cunning light in 
her changeable eyes, as she slowly 
sipped at her glass. Placing it on the 
table, she leaned toward me, and spoke 
in a low voice : 

" A word from me to Kronholtz — 
who is Count Stalheim's confidential 
aid — and my old partner will — ahem 
— meet with a very sudden, unexpected 
— er — end. 

" Kronholtz has several men with 
him who are adepts in getting, unde- 
sirable people out of the way — perma- 
nently. That fellow you saw with me 
in the writing-room is one of them. 
Yes ; it has got to be. It is the only way. 
Of course we could never be safe with 
him possessing our secret — you realize 
that?" 
12 S 



OF SORCERY. 897 

She was still smiling into my eyes — 
confidentially, frankly, as if she had 
proposed some harmless little trick to 
play on an acquaintance. 

" Yes — of course — certainly," I re- 
joined. " It is the only way." 

" Very well. That is settled," she 
said, as if dismissing a trivial detail 
from her mind. " I'm glad now that 
you appeared on the scene and stole the 
tin box and the ring. It has given me 
a half-brothef who will play the game 
artistically, ■ as it ought to be played." 

Again she smiled at me, this time 
admiringly. 

" But what about Cutler and Warn- 
ham? Even though they haven't got 
the evidence the tin box contains, it 
strikes me they can make things 
mussy." 

" Oh," she enlightened. " Kron- 
holtz's men will attend to them. too. 
Never fear; Kronholtz is a clever 
genius. He will look after every- 
thing." 

" And where does Count Stalheim 
come in on this thing? " 

" He gets a third — you and I the 
other two-thirds. Oh, there is enough 
for the three of us, I assure you." 

" Very well. Is that all there is to 
it?" 

" Yes ; excepting that I will have to 
arrange a meeting for you with Kron- 
holtz in the morning. We must not 
lose any time now. The sooner we get 
.to Germanv the sooner our reward." 

" Oh— by the way," I said. " What 
about the real Doris Armont and her 
half-brother? If they go wandering 
about Europe on another trip some day 
they're apt to stumble into the thing 
at last. Then we'd be in a pretty 
pickle." 

She looked at me almost reproach- 
fully. 

" Didn't I tell you Kronholtz would 
look after everything? They'll be 
swallowed up— disappear — just like 
the others." 

" Oh," I said weakly ; but she mere- 
ly took it as an expression of my un- 
derstanding of the little affair. 



898 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" The road will be clear when we 
start to claim my father's, poor Prince 
Ferdinand's, estate, money, and castles 
in Germany,'* she encouraged. " Don't 
worry on that score. It's all very 
simple. 

" However, we'll have lots of time 
to discuss everything to-morrow. I 
must get back to apartment No. 12. 
My partner- will be wondering what 
has happened to me — if he has re- 
turned. 

" Let me see — T "11 meet Kronholtz 
first thing in the morning, and arrange 
a meeting for you. It must be some- 
where out of the track of everybody 
concerned. My partner must never 
suspect I am playing him double. I 
can arrange the meeting now. Let's 
say twelve o'clock noon, in the wait- 
ing-room of the station in Hoboken. 
I'll be there with Kronholtz at that 
time. Is that all right?" 

(To be co 



" Fine," I said. " I'll be there with- 
out fail. Then we can go to some 
quiet place and talk it over in safety." 

" Very well," she agreed, and arose. 

" Let me go first. We must not be 
seen together," she cautioned. " No 
telling who we might run into." 

" That's true." I assented, and ad- 
vanced toward the door. 

Before I reached it it suddenly flew 
open. 

There stood the impersonator of 
George 'Armont. the man with the 
hang-dog countenance who had been 
sent to get the ring, and a burly, 
heavy-browed individual whom I 
rightly surmised to be Kronholtz. 

They crowded into the room and 
closed the door. 

George Armont was covering us 
with a revolver, while his shifty, close- 
set black eyes glanced savagely from 
me to the girl. 

o t I a a e d . ) 



TO HIS WIFE. 
By William Cullen Bryant. 

Li ERE, where I sit alone, is sometimes heard, 

From the great world, a whisper of my name. 
Joined, haply, to some kind, commending word, 
By those whose praise is fame. 

And then, as if I thought thou still were nigh. 

I turned me. half forgetting thou art dead, 
To read the gentle gladness in thine eye 

That once 1 might have read. 

I turn, but see thee not: before my eyes 
The image of a hillside mound appears, 

Where all of thee that passed not to the skies 
Was laid with bitter tears. 

And I. whose thoughts go back to happier days, 
That fled with thee, would gladly now resign 

All that the world can give of fame and praise 
For one sweet look of thine. 

Thus, ever, when I read of generous deeds — 

Such words as thou didst once delight to hear — 

My heart is wrung with anguish, as it bleeds 
To think thou art not near. 

And now that I can talk no more with thee 

Of ancient -friends, and days too fair to last, 

A bitterness blends with the memory 
Of all that happy past. 



Raymond S. Spears 



|H|ETER MASKIN was dead and in 
wr his grave. The mill where he 
ground corn, and more than 
corn, was silent in the gully of the run. 
There was no one to lift the shunt- 
board and let the water pour down 
over the great overshot wheel. The 
corn that was in the toll-bin grew 
musty and sour where it lay heaped. 

There was no one. so far as the coun- 
tryside knew, who could claim the mill 
and thirty acres of land. The bullet 
that bored through the heart of Old 
Tete the Miller made joy where there 
had been suffering and dismay. 

Jt seemed as if the man's bones had 
cast their blight, like salt, across the 
mill lot, for only rank weeds grew 
there, except at the entrance to the 
mill: there was hard, bare ground. It 
was easily believed that the bones did 
not rest. 

The crowd that came to the man's 
funeral was large — not to increase the 
mourning, but to see with their own 
eyes that Old Pete had not been too 
mean to die, as some had said. If he 
had stood up in his coffin and demanded 
tolls, demanded interest money, de- 
manded payments, there would have 



been fear, dread, horror, but no sur- 
prise. 

The face was no grayer in death than 
it had been in life; across that counte- 
nance had spread the terrible disease of 
avarice. 

lie would have cursed the extrava- 
gance that took from his leather pock- 
etbook the money for the coffin in which 
to inter his own remains. A box, made 
with his own hands from weather-old 
fence-boards had been good enough for 
his wife; he asked no better for him- 
self. He had denied none more than 
he denied himself. 

Now. when the wind blew at night, 
with Old Pete in that extravagant box 
of his — the box that had made the un- 
dertaker and the coroner grin with 
triumph — there came loud wails from 
the old mill ; there came low howls, 
quavering yells, bellowings, and laugh- 
ter. Tt was the laughter that made that 
road unpopular at night. 

W hen the screams of the wind whirl- 
ing through the mill were loudest one 
could see by moonlight pale figures 
come pouring out of the door between 
slams — figures that danced whirling 
over the bare place, killing all the things 



900 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



that might have grown there, and then 
leaped up over the burdocks and were 
gone in a puff. 

By day the snakes gathered on that 
bare ground in sunny weather and 
made trails across the dust of bran and 
corn. 

It was a brave man who would go 
to that old mill and stand in the gloom, 
looking into the dusty recesses, cur- 
tained by the wavering cobwebs swung 
down from beams and frames. 

Youths made passing the old mill the 
test of their courage. They reported 
green eyes in the dark of the mill. 
Every one knew that it was Old Pete 
the Miller's cat, but none knew whether 
the cat was alive or dead. 

The cat had been Old Pete's wild 
companion — a lank, black hunter that 
never grew fat. The very rats in the 
mill were lean from dodging the angry 
miller a.id his no less angry cat. A 
mad she-cat, an old maid that had never 
littered kittens, helped make the place 
untenantable, no matter whether she 
was alive or dead. 

There was yet the hoarded gold. 

It was gold that had transformed 
the pretty, green water, Maskin's Run 
Gully, into the terrible mill site that 
it had become. Every one knew the 
story of that gold. It lured while it 
repelled. 

When Peter Maskin was a young 
man he was like all the other young men 
of the land. He skylarked round, court- 
ed the girls, and even spent his money 
for moonshine. He used to go down the 
river on log rafts, and came home on 
the train and overland on the stage with 
the long coil of handyline rope over 
his shoulder with the rest of them. 

One trip the Chattanooga sawmill 
paid him off in gold — paid him one hun- 
dred dollars in gold for his string of 
logs. He had never seen gold before: 
if the word was a part of his vocabulary 
none remembered ever hearing him use 
it; if he had ever hungered for gold 
not a man or woman in all the world 
knew it. 

Now he stared at the coins, the five 



coins, and his companions saw growing 
in his eyes the terrible look which was 
never again to leave them — the look that 
spread across his countenance and 
stretched down into his hands and fin- 
gers, changing them into hooks that al- 
ways pulled toward him. 

Never a piece of gold did Peter Mas- 
kin spend ! He doled out his pennies 
and his silver and eked out his toll of 
corn, but never did a gold coin slip past 
those hooked hands of his. If he loaned 
money he paid it over in silver and 
paper, and drew it back in gold. 

" Pay me back in gold ! " he would 
demand as he counted out his paper and 
his silver. Always he had paper and 
silver. 

They paid for his coffin with paper 
and silver: they paid the coroner's fees, 
the sheriff's fees, everybody's fees, with 
silver and paper from the dead man's 
wallet. 

There was one empty compartment 
to that cowhide wallet: when some one 
who was curious held the leather to the 
reflection of the sun it gave off the sheen 
of gold. They could not help but divine 
that Old Pete had never let his silver or 
his paper touch his gold or -go into the 
receptacle of his gold. 

" Where did he put his gold? " men 
asked one another. 

None could answer. None dared to 
seek it. 

" He took it with 'im ! " tradition took 
to saying. Some believed that the ket- 
tles in which he was supposed to have 
buried it had gone into his grave to 
rattle among his bones. 

In the depths of their hearts many a 
man wished that he could stumble upon 
that gold. Not one had his wish. 

The man who found the gold had 
never heard of it, nor dreamed of hav- 
ing gold, and it fastened itself to him 
like the Old Man of the Sea. 

His name was Doland Coll) — a harm- 
less man who spent most of his time 
playing the fiddle. He would rather 
feed his soul with music than^eed his 
stomach with food, or clothe his body 
with wool. . 



THE GOLD MILL. 



901 



Shiftless, good-natured, care-free, he 
had never been drawn taut in all his 
born days. He shambled through the 
mountains, playing" as he walked along. 
He would stop and play for a gray 
squirrel if the squirrel showed interest 
and appreciation : he charmed a whole 
drove of mules one day; foxes came a 
long ways behind him. doubtful of the 
man. but charmed by the inspired 
strains. 

If a man invited him in to a snack, 
well and good: he was worthy of his 
hire, and he would play a family to sleep 
to show his appreciation. But if a dog 
howled he would take down his strings 
and loosen up his bow. rather than hurt 
even the feelings of a beast. 

He bore no hard feelings against any 
man in all the world when he came over 
the divide and started down the trail of 
Maskin's Run. 

Others called that the lonesomest 
trail in all the world, but not so Doland 
Colb. It inspired him; a storm was 
just coming on, and the far lightnings 
bellowed forth low thunderings which 
the fiddler set to music, and poured it 
back into the full sky. a part of the 
chorus and the play. 

If the sky had its lightning, clouds, 
and thunder, the earth had its moun- 
tains, shadows, and Doland Coll) — 
ragged, shaggy, and impassioned, pour- 
ing out his tunes like a bird. 

His eyes were on the belching, black 
clouds of the sky. and he stepped high 
to avoid the boulders and cobbles of the 
road. He was awakened from his rev- 
eries by the loud and discordant splash 
of a huge rain-drop on his fiddle. 

The splash stretched a string, and he 
looked about him in haste and dazed 
surprise, trying to place himself, won- 
dering how he had come to be in such a 
place without shelter at such a time. 
Heretofore it had been a picture, but 
now he saw the gray, sheeting rain com- 
ing, and to save his precious strings he 
must find shelter. 

Ahead of him loomed a mill, gray 
and solemn, with the water pouring out 
round the shunt-board and falling down 



in spray, wasted on all but an eye for 
neglect and beauty and fallow scenes. 
Lie swung into the old mill and sat 
down just inside the doorway to wait 
while the storm should drive by. 

If his fiddle-strings had not been 
dampened by that one drop , that 
splashed on the instrument he would 
have played on. As it was, he could 
only look at the rain. Then, growing 
restless, he began to look round him in 
the mill. 

Pie saw what all the others had seen 
— cobwebs, dust, musty toll-bin and 
wheels and burrs that did not turn. He 
walked round and climbed up-stairs to 
look where the corn was shoveled into 
the hopper, and he gingerly brushed 
away the dust that was on webs across 
the little window there, trying to let 
in light in order to see better. 

He knew the mountain mills, had lis- 
tened while they turned over and over 
— " calink — calank — calunk " — and in 
the silence of this mill his mind revert- 
ed to those other mills. He remembered 
thai; each mill had its own sound — the 
undershot, the overshot, the turbine. 

There in the quiet of this mill he 
could feel the music held in the planks, 
beams, and stones of allmiills. He could 
hear the spirit of the mill singing; as 
he looked at the unground corn sprout- 
ing there, and as he thought of the 
green toll-bin, something of the calam- 
ity of the mill that was dead stirred in 
his soul. 

His breath began to come in short 
gasps, thinking of what was unplayed 
— what no man had ever yet played. 
He listened, and amid the uproar of 
the storm, while the loose planks rat- 
tled and the wind drew screaming 
througli the whistling places, he caught 
the rhythm of the old mill, and he knew 
that after a time he would play it on 
the fiddle and make it into music that 
would cheer him on his way. 

Listening, he heard a chinking 
sound, followed by another and an- 
other. He looked around, puzzled and 
doubtful. He. could not tell whether 
it was up-stairs or down. 



902 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



When he stepped he heard a rippling 
of chinking'. He stamped, and there 
was a splashing of metal somewhere, 
lie looked down the steep stairs on 
which his tracks were printed in the 
dust as if he had stepped on snow. 

On the floor, heside his fiddle, was a 
piece of gold, round and dull, but un- 
mistakable. 

He stared at it curiously, wonder- 
ing, not quite comprehending at first, 
for when one has been a wandering 
minstrel during many, many years the 
heart does not at first bound with ex- 
ultant greed when one sights the shift 
of wind that changes his fortune. 

"Oh!" Doland Colb said half 
aloud. " That was the strange note 
that I heard ! " 

Then he descended, making his foot- 
prints in the dust upon each step that 
he had climbed. When he was down- 
stairs he saw what had happened. His 
weight on the floor above had shaken 
the beams and timbers, and one sup- 
porting beam beside the burrs had 
sprung under the weight, and from its 
hollow heart had fallen a cascade of 
old gold, which Pete the Miller had ac- 
cumulated in the years of his grasping 
and hungering and greed. 

The fiddler did not stoop at once to 
pick it up. He was thinking of the 
sound that it had made, and he did not 
want to forget that. 

Then he picked up the coin that he 
had seen first, where it had rolled 
through the dust, leaving a sharp black 
trail -to its resting place beside the old 
fiddle. It was a contrast — that 
scarred fiddle and the piece of dull 

Coll> picked it up; he picked up the 
other coins and put them in his pocket. 
Then lie pulled out the wooden plugs 
which had served as a ladder up the 
beam from which the miller could 
reach the chute and the hopper of the 
mill. Each plug was driven into a 
two - inch auger hole. In each hole 
were pieces of gold. One of the plugs 
had shaken loose, and the coins had 
tumbled out. 



The fiddler's pockets would not hold 
it all; they would have torn out if they 
had held it all. There were eight hun- 
dred double eagles, or fifty pounds 
troy. The fiddler looked about him, 
trying to find something, trying to 
think of something in which to carry 
that dead weight of sixteen thousand 
dollars net. 

He was glad that the storm was last- 
ing as long as it did. He wanted no 
company there at such a time. 

As he gazed about his thoughts 
quickened, and his eyes gained in 
sharpness; his frame stiffened. Fmrn 
a thousand directions came pouring 
the avalanche of hopes deferred, of 
longings ungratified, of inspirations 
never voiced. He took out the coin he 
had first seen, and held it in his hand 
to compare it with his weather-beaten, 
wet-stringed fiddle ; it was a contrast 
that he would never forget as long as 
he should live. 

There was some heavy canvas on 
the mouth of the chute to guide the 
corn down into the hopper, and also to 
prevent the corn from overrunning 
the brim of the hopper. This can- 
vas at last struck the eye of the man, 
and he pulled it down — a strip sixteen 
inches wide and three feet long. 

It would lap itself round his slim 
waist, and he drew from under his 
coat a long needle and a black thread, 
the inevitable kit of a wandering min- 
strel and of those who travel to forget. 
With this needle and thread he made 
himself a canvas money-belt, whose 
compartments he loaded with gold. 

He swung it round his waist, and 
over his shoulders he led strips of 
canvas to support the weight. When 
this was done he picked up the pegs 
and drove them into the holes in the 
upright timber again. 

When he was all through a slim, 
black cat came purring up out of a 
hole in the corner and brushed round 
him, her eyes shining green in the dark 
of the mill. 

The storm had ceased its downpour, 
but overhead the black clouds milled 



THE GOLD MILL. 



903 



and made ready to break away. Doland 
Colb, after a look at the weather, 
picked up his fiddle and his bow and 
stepped out on the hard-pan before the 
mill doorway. 

There was weight to his step and 
swagger to his swing. 1 le saw. with 
not cpiite clear understanding, that the 
world looked different than he had 
ever before seen it. 

He strode away down the run, and 
as the string of his fiddle had dried 
out by this time, he turned ,up the 
bridge and set up the keys. He tight- 
ened the hair of the bow. and with a 
flourish began to play — and he played 
as he had never played before. 

Hardly had lie begun, however, 
when there was an interruption. 

Down from the milling clouds shot 
a bolt of lightning, shivering and 
splitting the air. It struck the mill 
fairly, and out of the broken windows 
and the doors burst clouds of dust, fol- 
lowed by darts and whirls of flame. In 
a half minute, while the fiddler stared, 
the dust turned to black smoke, and 
when a sharp gust of wind swept up 
the run it threw back the smoke long 
enough to give him sight of a black 
cat standing with arched back on the 
peak of the mill's roof, surrounded by 
puffs of while steam spurting up 
through the split wet shingles. 

Then the fire rolled up. 

Doland Colb laughed while he shud- 
dered. The laugh was for the music 
that he had in mind; the shudder was 
for the cat. which a minute before had 
been so friendly. 

" I better play that piece before I 
forget hit ! " he said to himsel f , giving 
another flourish to his bow to limber 
up his arm and shake his coat-sleeve 
clear. 



As he strode along, playing, he 
passed a cabin down in the valley at 
the foot of the run. He heard a man 
remark : 

" Sho! That feller's jes a cuttin' 
hit down, ain't he? " 

" Yassuh ! " another answered, and 
then shouted to the fiddler: " Hey, 
you! 'Low I'll gin ye a night's lodgin' 
fer some o' that music! " 

The fiddler glanced at him with con- 
siderable scorn and strode on — play- 
ing as he had never played before. 
Neither the mud nor the hunger that 
was coming on checked the exuberance 
of his spirits. 

He cared nothing now; many prob- 
lems had been solved. He was on his 
way to town — to Rogersville, the 
nearest one. 

He fiddled till he struck the side- 
walk, when he ceased and stalked with 
dignity till he came to the brick hotel, 
where sat the proprietor at his ease. 

" Hello, Dole ! " the proprietor 
hailed. "Just in time! We're goin' 
to have a dance yere to-night. Got 
somelhin' new fer us?" 

"Nope!" Doland grinned, "I'm 
stoppin' to the Marble Hall to-night." 

" What ? " 

The fiddler scorned the surprise and 
sauntered on to the big hotel where 
they played orchestras. 

There he tossed a double eagle on 
the cigar-case and demanded a smoke. 
This he followed with a call for a 
room, and then he was shown to the 
dining-room. 

" I kin remember when that feller 
used to play up the street for his 
night's lodging. - ' the proprietor re- 
marked, turning the coin over in his 
hands fondly. "Now look at 'im! 
Beat's all. don't it? " 



DEATH 
By J. GARTH 

TO die is landing on some silent shore, 

Where billows never break nor tempests roar; 
Ere well we feel the friendly stroke, 'tis o'er. 




SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. 

RALPH WITHINGTON, lanky and cadaverous, is ill love with Sarah McCreevy, 
but his gloom so affects her that whenever they are alone together she goes into 
uncontrollable laughter. He seeks Professor Younglove, who has an establish- 
ment for making folks cheerful, and there sees Myrtilla Ashe, Younglove's stenogra- 
pher, from whom he has fled in days gone by. He lets it be known that he will disap- 
pear, and escapes from Younglove's office, leaving the two women disconsolate and 
determined to find him. Younglove promises his invaluable assistance. 

Withington, in his flight, picks up a dwarf actor out of a job. The latter becomes 
his partner, and though pursued by Younglove and Miss Ashe, the ill-assorted pair 
make their way to some Jersey railroad yards. They crawl into an empty box-car, 
which shortly is shunted aboard a train-ferry and carried round the Battery, up to 
railroad yards near the Harlem River. Here they arc captured by some freight-hand- 
lers. 



CHAPTER VII— (Continued.) 

THE FUGITIVES SET SAIL. 

STARING drowsily at the float 
platform, Ralph saw no one. 
He felt a bit of wood tap 
him on the head and looked up to see 
a man standing over him on the roof 
of the car. The man held a brake- 
man's stick in his hand. 

" All right, all right,*' Ralph said 
wearily. No violence, please." 

He was prepared to meet any fate 
if only he could be released from the 
. ladder. 

It was Harry Dunn who stood on 
top of the car, from which he descend- 

Btean October All-Story Magazine. Single copiei, 15 centi. 

964 



ed immediately to join his chum Drake 
on the platform. 

" Say, Harry,*' Drake said, holding 
up a lantern and scowling at Ralph 
Withington's blackened, spray-streaked 
face, " I'll bet he's thrown the kid 
overboard.*" 

On the instant Sigismund leaped 
from the folds of Ralph's overcoat, 
nimble as a fairy. 

The two trainmen sprang back a 
few paces in surprise. 

" Oh. mister."" Sigismund cried, 
" we didn't mean anything. Honest, 
we didn't. We got on the wrong boat 
by mistake. But we have money and 
will pay our fare." 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



905 



For the first time since they had 
been drenched at the Battery, Ralph 
iWitnington was conscious of warmth 
within him. It was caused by his ad- 
miration for Sigismund's quick wit 
and unperturbed manner. 

" Is this man your father? " Harry 
Dunn asked gruffly. 

" You didn't think he was my brud- 
der, did youse? " Sigismund asked by 
way of reply, and in consummate imi- 
tation of a tough boy's voice. 

" How could he lie if he wanted to?" 
Ralph was thinking when he heard a 
question suddenly addressed to him. 

" W'here'd you meet this kid?" 
Harry Dunn asked. 

For a second Ralph was nonplused, 
then he responded solemnly, recalling 
the Eyrie Building: 

" We didn't meet, sir. \Yc collided, 
and that's the truth." 

" Don't try to pull any of that gay 
stuff." Harry Dunn snarled, and grab- 
bing his chum's arm drew him aside to 
confer privately. 

" Say, aren't you ever going to try 
to reform?" Sigismund asked Ralph. 

Why didn't you tell him something 
he'd believe? " 

But didn't we collide. Sigismund?" 

" There's no use to talk to you," 
Sigismund declared despondently. 
" Wait here till I find out what these 
fellows are going to do with us." 

.Straightway Sigismund skipped like 
a little boy over to the spot where the 
two trainmen stood in close talk. 

Alone, a lean, somber figure, black- 
in the distance, remained Ralph. He 
was sodden, chilled and mushy with a 
combination of damp potato and coal- 
dust. His face was smudged black as 
the night itself. 

" Please, misters," Sigismund piped 
in childish treble to the trainmen, ''you 
won't do nothing to popper an' me, 
will youse? " 

It was Sigismund's calculation that 
if he could win the sympathy of the 
men, posing as Ralph's boy, they would 
be satisfied with a couple of dollars 
each, and permit Ralph and himself to 



depart unmolested when the float made 
dock. 

Both men looked down pityingly at 
the little fellow. 

" He ain't your popper, kid," said 
Harry Dunn, patting Sigismund's 
shoulder. " He's just telling you lies." 

" He is so, my popper ; and he never 
lies," Sigismund wailed in feigned 
crying. " lie doesn't know how." 

Harry turned to his chum, saying: 
" Jim. you ain't married, and so you 
don't understand kids. Let me man- 
age him." 

" All right," Jim grunted, standing 
by with the lantern. 

" Now," Harry Dunn spoke very 
coaxingly, " you just tell me the truth, 
and I'll see no harm comes to you." 

Sigismund sniffed and sobbed. 

" Don't be scared, kid. You're with 
the right bunch, so spit it out." 

Even quick-witted Sigismund needed 
time to think in such an emergency. 

" Me mudder ran away," he wailed, 
" an' the landlord shut up the flat, 
and I was plavin' hookey from school, 
and—" 

"What did I tell youse?" Harry 
Dunn asked, turning to his chum. " It's 
the same story I seen in the papers. 
The kid's mother ran away to her 
brother because the father wouldn't 
give her no money. 

" This brother, the kid's uncle, is 
rich, and he put up the thousand dol- 
lars' reward because he don't want the 
father to have the kid and he was sure 
he had him. The papers say he's a tall, 
ugly Eyetalian, so dark he looks al- 
most like a nigger." 

" The big fellow looks jes' like 
that." Jim Drake assented reservedly. 

" Don't try to get away, kid," Harry 
Dunn said tenderly, patting Sigis- 
mund's head. He looked toward his 
chum. " And the paper said the boy 
was small and puny, with a handker- 
chief tied round his head. All them 
dagos wear handkerchiefs tied on 
their heads until they're sure they are 
boys, not goils. If they're goils they 
always wears 'em." 



906 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



Harry Dunn's breast swelled with 
pride. He could see his picture in the 
next day's papers, and a picture of the 
thousand-dollar check which he and 
Jim would receive as reward. 

"You're married," Jim remarked, 
not distrustfully. It's hard to be dis- 
trustful when half of a thousand dol- 
lars may be yours for merely looking 
wise. " I guess you know more than 
me about children." 

" Run right back, kid, to the big 
fellow, - ' said Harry Dunn, urging Sig- 
ismund gently away. *' We reach our 
dock in a little while. Jim and me will 
take care of you." 

When Sigismund had reached the 
particularly dark region that Ralph 
Withington's presence seemed only to 
make darker, Ralph saluted him with : 

" Of course you made it all right, 
didn't you? They understood when 
you explained, didn't they? How much 
shall I offer them ? " 

" Oh, it's all right." Sigismund an- 
swered with mock cheer in his voice. 
" We can stretch here and rest if we 
like. They promised to take care of 
us until we reach the dock." 

" What a marvel you are ! " Ralph 
exclaimed. " You lied to them, I sup- 
pose." 

" You lie down," Sigismund re- 
turned. " and rest yourself for a while. 
When we get to Mott Haven those 
trainmen who think we are dagos and 
you kidnaped me are going to hand 
me and you over to the police for a 
thousand dollars' reward. I've heard 
the penalty is anywhere up to twenty 
years," Sigismund concluded wearily. 

"What have you gone and done?" 

" I overplayed my part." said Sigis- 
mund. " 1 thought the kid act would 
fetch them, and it did. It brought 
them right down on top of us. Let's 
stretch. I feel six feet tall, and there's 
an ache in every inch." 

" Nevertheless," Ralph persisted, 
" you and I know that we are not da- 
gos. We can prove it's not true that 
I kidnaped you. All we have to do is 
to tell the police — " 



" Yes," Sigismund interrupted ; ''go 
to the station house and get our names 
in print as supposed kidnaper and kid- 
napce. when the fact is that we are 
only trying to disappear from a Miss 
Myrtilla Ashe and a few other people. 
Now let me rest and think. Gee, "but 
I'm a fine actor ! " 

" Pins and needles!" Ralph groaned 
and clapped his hands together making 
a noise like a shot. " Perhaps if I had 
talked with the men — " 

" You would be better off, of 
course. You would have told them 
the truth; and then where'd we be?" 
Sigismund demanded, sitting up. 

" No," Ralph answered solemnly, "I 
would have lied, but I would not have 
dared such a big fake as you did. I 
would — " 

" Not what you would, but what you 
are going to do? Can't you suggest 
anvthins;? " 

All Ralph said was : " And I ex- 
pected to be on our way to the far 
West by this time to-night ! " 



CHAPTER VIII. 

AT THE HOTEL DI ROCCA. 

It had been decided between the 
trainmen on the float that Harry Dunn, 
because " he was married and under- 
stood children." should take the kid- 
naper and the little dago in charge. 

Only thus were they sure of getting 
their captives away and to the police 
without having the other members of 
the crew in their secret and in the re- 
ward. 

" Harry, be careful of the big 
bloke," Jim cautioned. 

" I got me stick an' can lay him flat 
in one whiff if I want to," Harry re- 
plied confidently. " The thousand for 
us, Jim; you wait an' see! " 

Them dagos always has knives. 
Look out he don't- get behind and sting 
you one," were^. Jim Drake's final 
words. 

" You got a knife, I know," said 
Harry Dunn gruffly, when he had 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



907 



made Ralph and Sigismund get up 
from the platform and take their 
hiding-place on the ladder of a car. 

He was standing on the roof, look- 
ing down at them and holding his club 
within half a foot of Ralph's be- 
grimed and bewildered face. 

" But i f youse try to use that 
kni fe — " Harry went on. " See this 
stick " — he flourished it wickedly — 
" it's made of iron wood, an' I got a 
gun handy in me pocket here." 

"Please don't shoot my popper!" 
Sigismund bawled like a veritable four- 
year-old. 

From which remark it is apparent 
that he and Ralph had come to the 
conclusion their best alternative was 
to play out the parts of kidnaper and 
kidnapee to the bitter end. 

" I won't hurt you, kid," said Harry 
Dunn tenderly. " I got kids of me 
own." 

The cars were presently pulled off 
the float into the yards. After moving 
slowly and lumberingly this way and 
that for upward of fifteen minutes 
they came to a dead stop. 

" This is our station," Harry Dunn 
called down to them. " You big hiker, 
you hold the kid and get off without 
hurtin' him or you'll be sorry for it ! " 

Ralph obeyed orders under the 
watchful eye of Harry Dunn, set Sig- 
ismund on his feet, and immediately 
the three found their way across 
tracks and between stalled cars under 
the guidance of the trainman. 

Harry Dunn kept the big man walk- 
ing about one and a half paces in front 
of him. He held Sigismund with his 
left hand, and in his right kept his 
club ready to fell Ralph at the first 
sign of resistance. 

To relieve the monotony of their 
amble through the dark he indulged in 
occasional husky remarks of this tenor: 

" You dirty dago, you!" His club 
* would be gripped tighter. " Try a 
knife on me and I'll open your nut 
with this toothpick of mine! " 

" Can I help it if my mother and 
father were Italians?" was the only 



reply, Ralph offered to Harry Dunn's 
fiercest threats. 

" That's the nearest to a common- 
sense lie I've yet heard from Ralph," 
thought Sigismund hopefully, and con- 
tinued his wailing plea that he did not 
" want his popper hurted." 

They came to the outskirts of the 
yard? where they climbed a steep, 
gravelly slope, from which they were 
to enter on to the street at the top. 

" Don't cry, kid," Harry Dunn mut- 
tered soothingly. " We'll soon be in 
the street now, an' we're going to have 
a nice ride in a trolley-car." 

" Is popper comin' with us?" Sigis- 
mund asked. 

Before the trainman could say a 
word, somehow Sigismund slipped or 
stumbled, and, losing hold of Harry 
Dunn's hand, went down on his face 
with a childlike yell of terror and pain. 

" Ah, youse ain't hurt!" said the 
trainman, stooping quickly to recover 
his charge. 

Sigismund's yell was Ralph's signal. 
He whirled about and with his square- 
toed number twelve shoe dealt Harry 
Dunn a terrific kick in the pit of the 
stomach. 

The trainman's hands went up into 
the air, his club flew beyond them, and 
he. with a bellow that almost immedi- 
ately dwindled into a groan, doubled 
in two and rolled down the slope like 
a ball. 

Meanwhile Ralph had caught Sigis- 
mund up in his arms and ran up to the 
street. 

"' I told you, Ralph, you could do it 
with that foot," the Lilliputian ob- 
served with a cackling laugh as Ralph 
set him down on the far side of the 
iron fence that railed off the freight- 
yards. 

" We must find a cheap hotel some- 
where," Ralph said as they came with- 
in the light of a store-window. " If 
I look as dirty as you do, I'm sure they 
won't let us on a car." 

" You don't look any dirtier," Sig- 
ismund returned, surveying Ralph; 
" but there's so much more of you than 



90S 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



there is of me for dirt to stick to. Be- 
sides, I'm dead tired and that hungry 
I could eat raw horse." 

With frequent glances behind them 
to make sure they were not being fol- 
lowed, the big man and the Lilliputian 
walked for fully half an hour in the 
Bronx, which was an uncharted sea to 
them. ' 

At length they paused before a long, 
two-story, frame building, in which all 
the ground-floor windows were light- 
ed. On a dingy electric sign they read : 

HOTEL DI ROCCA 
G. Sal va tore, Prop. 

If either of them had known the 
Bronx as well as each knew Manhattan 
Island he would have realized that they 
had been walking in a jagged circle all 
this time, so that they brought up in the 
very neighborhood from which they be- 
lieved themselves far removed. 

The Hotel di Rocca had once been a 
family house to which a store-front and 
extra windows had been added. Ralph 
and Sigismund entered what had for- 
merly been the house-door, but was now 
called the hotel-entrance. Sigismund 
waited in the vestibule while Ralph 
opened a door at the left that gave ad- 
mission to the most popular section of 
G. Salvatore's establishment. 

Not above half a minute had Sigis- 
mund been alone when a short, thick- 
set Italian slipped suspiciously into the 
vestibule, and. laying his hand on Sigis- 
mund's handkerchiefed head, whis- 
pered a few words in his native tongue. 

The little fellow spoke German, 
French. Swedish, and English. In fact, 
he could make a fist at the language of 
any country in which he had toured; 
but as he had never played in Italy, he 
was obliged to say to the stranger : 

" I don't speak Italian." 

The stranger put a finger to one nos- 
tril, smiled, and was gone. 

Meanwhile Ralph was standing in a 
room where, through a dense haze of 
throttling tobacco smoke, he saw a large 
crowd of laboring men playing cards at 
various small tables. From the boiling 



excitement of their manner and speech 
he realized that they were Italians to 
a man. 

" Where's the proprietor? " Ralph in- 
quired in a fairly loud voice. 

." Me, signore" announced a stoutish, 
happy-faced individual with an enor- 
mous mustache and an equally enor- 
mous watch-chain. 

Questioningly he considered the tall, 
coal-smudged, water-logged person who 
studied him from great gloomy eyes. 

" We've been in an automobile col- 
lision," Ralph explained bruskly. bra- 
cing his shoulders as he had seen Sigis- 
mund do when addressing any one. 
" We ran into ten tons of wet coal. Had 
our choice to be drowned or smothered. 
Our car is going to be taken away for 
junk to-morrow, our clothes are ruined, 
but no one fortunately hurt or killed." 

"Where dissa happen?" G. Salva- 
tore inquired. 

" Oh. back a few blocks on the ave- 
nue," Ralph answered. He pulled his 
wallet from his pocket and handed three 
single bills to the proprietor. " We're 
in a hurry to get home, but want to 
clean up and have some supper first. If 
that doesn't cover the charges, let me 
know." 

" Gee." Sigismund thought, eaves- 
dropping at the crack of the door be- 
tween the hall and the bar. " if he isn't 
beginning to know how to lie at last! 
He'll be a wonder with some practise." 

The rates of the Hotel di Rocca were 
twenty-five cents a night for the cheap- 
est room and fifty for the best the house 
afforded. G. Salvatore grabbed the 
three dollar bills and examined them 
quickly. 

"Come, signore," he said then; "I 
show room." 

As he laid eyes on Sigismund in the 
hall he caught him up in his arms and 
babbled to him in Italian that he was 
a brave little boy not to cry or be fright- 
ened for being in an automobile wreck. 

" Whatta you like for sup'? " G. Sal- 
vatore asked, about to retire from his 
guests' room. " Biffastek, spaghett', 
coffee?" 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



909 



Ralph informed him that such a sup- 
per would be satisfactory, and the soon- 
er the better. 

Down to the kitchen went G. Salva- 
tore, where his wife sat in her chair by 
the stove, asleep over her stocking- 
basket. Leaning over her. G. Salvatore 
kissed his spouse softly. She only mut- 
tered a prayer in her sleep: but when 
he brushed his enormous spokes of mus- 
tache across her nostrils she woke with 
a loud sneeze. 

u What a fool you are — " 

" Get busy," he answered her in their 
own language, and pressed the three 
dollars into her hand. " Richa million- 
aire and boy up-stairs. Automobile 
smash. Wanta da sup'." 

One hour later, when supper had been 
served and eaten and Ralph had in- 
formed G. Salvatore that he would 
spend the night there, a great and dis- 
turbing noise of people's voices was 
heard outside the Hotel di Rocca. 

The card-players forgot all about 
their game and stood up, wondering and 
cautious. G. Salvatore made a rush for 
the street door. His was a respectable 
place, and he wanted no fighting or 
rowing outside the building. 

As he put his hand to the knob the 
door was pushed open from the street- 
side and a trimly built, hard-faced po- 
liceman stalked in. 

He shut the door behind him and 
brushed G. Salvatore to the left of him, 
saying loudly and with authority in 
Italian first and then in English: 

" Everybody stay right in their seat 
and they won't be any trouble! Play 
cards ! " he added as they watched him 
open-mouthed. 

Then G. Salvatore's patrons dropped 
onto their chairs and pretended to be 
interested in their cards. 

The policeman tapped three times 
sharply on the door at his back. 

Again the door was opened, revealing 
to G. Salvatore's nervous inquisitive 
eyes a great crowd of men and women, 
whom three policemen held at bay. The 
women were shrieking hysterically and 
the men rent the air with maledictions. 



They were all Italians, and G. Salva- 
tore knew very well what they were 
raving about. Yet he kept a respectable 
place and had nothing to fear. Sudden- 
ly he bethought himself of the big, tall 
man and the little boy in the room up- 
stairs. Consternation froze his soul. 

For three dollars he had harbored a 
kidnaper ! 

It would ruin his business in the 
neighborhood. He would lose his 
license. 

He was just getting read)' to tear his 
hair out by the roots when the police- 
man reminded him of the presence of 
an American, who had entered in re- 
sponse to the club-taps and stood silent- 
ly patient, but suspicious, beside the 
officer of the law. 

It was Harry Dunn, the trainman 
from the float. 

Acting as interpreter the policeman 
informed G. Salvatore that he was on 
the trail of a tall, thin, dark man, a 
kidnaper, who had with him a very 
small boy. wearing a handkerchief 
round his bead. The trainman, he 
went on, had captured the kidnaper and 
the boy and was taking them to the 
station-house when the kidnaper as- 
saulted his captor and escaped with the 
child. 

They had searched every hotel in the 
district, when an Italian called up the 
police station and said he saw a big fel- 
low and a little boy going into the Hotel 
di Rocca. He was sure he was the kid- 
naper for whom a thousand dollars re- 
ward was advertised. Whether the 
Italian was right or not, they must 
search the Hotel di Rocca. 

" I am an honest man ! I am an 
honest man ! " cried G. Salvatore, with 
a guilty air. 

The truth is, he had had a faint sus- 
picion that there was something queer 
about his strange guests, but the three 
dollars had put it out of his mind. 

" Gome up to Room 6."' he con- 
tinued, still reaching all the high notes 
of his voice. " I will show you. I did 
not know ! " 

They went up-stairs on tiptoe, the 



910 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



policeman first, G. Salvatore behind 
him, and Harry Dunn, the trainman, 
last. 

• Better have your gun ready," 
Harry Dunn whispered to the police- 
man, " them fellers always carry 
knives." 

" Shut up ! " the officer whispered in 
reply. 

By instructions of the policeman G. 
Salvatore knocked at the door of Room 
6 sharply. 

" Who's there? '" came in the hollow 
tones of Ralph Withington. 

" S ignore," was the reply in pleasant 
tone, " I am G. Salvatore of Hotel di 
Rocca. I want to seea you." 

" You can't. I've got all my clothes 
off! " said Ralph. 

" You mus' go outa dis hotel righta 
"way," G. Salvatore thundered. " Re- 
spectable place. No taka bums, noa 
crooks, noa kidnap man — noa, not 
never. I am a honest proprietor." 

" What's come over you ? " Ralph 
roared, and at the same moment turned 
the key and swung the door open. 

The policeman burst into the room 
first, covering Ralph with his revolver. 
Harry Dunn hid behind the officer's 
broad frame, as did G. Salvatore, who 
shut the door. 

" Act right," said the policeman in 
Italian, " an' you won't get hurt ! " 

" Talk English, which is the only 
language I understand." Ralph retorted. 
" and you'll find out something, if that's 
what you came for." 

All about the room were hung dirty, 
damp clothes: and Ralph, in his under- 
wear, looked two inches above his actual 
height. 

The bed had been pushed up close to 
the robin's-egg-blue bureau, and Sigis- 
mund, also in his underclothes, sat on 
the foot of it, his feet balanced on an 
open drawer. 

He was shaving with Ralph's safety- 
razor before a cross-eyed mirror. 

" There's the poor kid." Harry Dunn 
muttered to the officer. " See — he's 
given him his razor to play with, so he 
wouldn't cry." 



The sharp ears of Sigismund had 
caught the trainman's words, and he 
jumped up on the bureau at once, con- 
fronting all of them with a little face 
creamy with lather. 

" Mr, Officer," he began with dignity, 
u< this trainman here did find us on his 
float — we'll admit that, all right — " 

" What's all that talking and yelling 
outside of your hotel, if it's such a re- 
spectable place. Mr. Proprietor?" Ralph 
interrupted, not so much for the pur- 
pose of flinging a gibe at G. Salvatore, 
as to warn Sigismund by a wink to be 
on his guard in what he was saying. 

" That's a mob ready to lynch you, 
you big bully, if they can get their 
hands on you for stealing away this — " 
the trainman was saying when the po- 
liceman cut in. 

"Shut up," said the officer; "let's 
hear the kid's story. Go ahead, kid ! " 

" The trainman's boat is seaworthy, 
all right," Sigismund continued; " but 
Ave were not out for a ride on the river. 
Like a pair of boys we hopped on the 
train, and before we could hop off again 
found ourselves afloat." 

" Where did your cars come from? " 
the policeman inquired of the trainman 
in an undertone. 

" From Hoboken." Harry Dunn re- 
plied surlily. He felt the policeman was 
not giving him the treatment his im- 
portant discoveiy deserved. 

" Oh. that's it. is it? " the policeman 
said with a grunt. " Keep a movin', 
kid." 

'' We would have given his pal and 
him a couple of dollars each if they had 
minded their own business and let us 
go." pursued Sigismund. " But this 
fellow was sure he was in for a thou- 
sand dollars reward for rescuing a kid- 
naped dago, and so we had to give him 
the slip. 

" What does he get by it ? Just to 
prove to you. Mr. Officer, that I'm no 
kid. hut thirty-four years old and a Lilli- 
putian actor out of a job, you can come 
up and feel my beard. Come on. I 
won't hurt you, and. besides, you've got 
your pistol." 



i 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



911 



The policeman walked over to the 
bureau and rubbed his big hand over 
Sigismund's face. 

"Some whiskers, eh, for a kid?" 
Sigismund asked with a roguish twinkle 
in his eye. " Watch me step." 

Forthwith Sigismund began to sing a 
music-hall song in German. None of 
them understood a word: but his pan- 
tomime and dancing were so amusing, 
as he imitated men and women of va- 
rious ages attempting the waltz and 
other steps, that the policeman and G. 
Salvatore laughed till the tears rolled 
down their checks. 

Marry Dunn, the trainman, did not 
laugh. He looked on scowling and mut- 
tering. Sigismund began to act up to- 
ward him. The sourer Harry Dunn ap- 
peared the funnier Sigismund became. 

Ralph did not dare to laugh, remem- 
bering his constitutional peculiarity. 
Yet he had never in his life wanted 
to laugh so badly. He recalled his 
visit to Professor Younglove that morn- 
ing, and kept saying to himself : " I 
shall — I will be better for eating Loso 
Peanuts." 

But when, after piercing the train- 
man with every barb of his wit. little 
Sigismund began to improvise a song, 
beginning: " Oh, Mr. Trainman, won't 
you lend me a slice of that thou' ? " 
neither Loso Peanuts, Vita-Pull, or 
Vibrational Control could hold back 
Ralph YYilhington's famous laugh any 
longer. 

He sat as though doubled in pain 
on the edge of the bed and gave out 
that junglelike cachinnation and roar 
no human being except himself had 
ever produced or been able to copy. 

Tn alarm both the trainman and G. 
Salvatore made for the door. The 
policeman stood his ground and 
thought of calling for an ambulance. 

" It's all right. Mr. Officer." ex- 
plained Sigismund, who had never 
heard Ralph laugh, but had heard him 
talk about it. " that's what my friend 
calls a laugh." To himself he added: 
" And he used to think he didn't know 
how to lie ! " 



The policeman's eyes flashed and his 
forehead wrinkled as he took out his 
memorandum - book and began to 
glance through the pages. 

Then he held the book with one 
finger at a marked place, and told the 
trainman and the hotel proprietor to 
go down-stairs and inform everybody 
that a mistake had been made. These 
two men were not the kidnaper and the 
child, but he knew who they were, 
and wanted one of his fellow officers 
to slip up without the crowd seeing 
him and come to Room 6. 

G. Salvatore went off, highly elated 
and with repeated exclamations about 
his respectable place to Harry Dunn. 
But the trainman was solemn • and 
mute. 

" I guess I've called you fellows' 
number all right." the policeman said, 
consulting his memorandum-book from 
time to time. " Your name's Ralph 
Withington, and you disappeared this 
morning with a little fellow — a dwarf 
named Meislahn. The last seen of 
3'ou you were on a train of empty 
cars in the Ploboken yards. 

" We got a still-alarm about you 
this afternoon from headquarters. 
There's no charge against you, but 
your friends are worried, fve a good 
description of both of you here, but I 
couldn't recognize you in your under- 
clothes very well, could I? 

" The report says, too, the big man 
has a laugh like a singing hyena, and 
it shakes the window-panes. You may 
as well admit I'm right, the both of 
you, because I have the goods on you." 

Ralph gazed straight through the 
officer's thick frame and mumbled 
something about being betrayed by a 
laugh. 

"All right, all right," Sigismund 
announced cheerily, " but if there's no 
charge against us, why not let us tend 
to our own business and go to sleep. 
I'm tired." 

" There's no charge exactly." 1 the 
policeman replied, " but you are spe- 
cially wanted in connection with an- 
other disappearance. It's a woman, 



912 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



and we people believe you know where 
she is to be found." 

"A woman? What woman?" 
Ralph cried. 

" Sarah McCreevy," the officer an- 
swered. " She disappeared a little 
while after you did. Now own up 
and tell me what you know. It's the 
best way." 

" This is the first we know about 
it,** Ralph declared solemnly. " I 
didn't mean any more to tell the truth 
every chance I got; but I can't lie about 
Sarah. Poor Sarah! If she'd only 
waited. I was going to write to her 
to-night." 



CHAPTER IX. 

ON MANY TRAILS. 

In view of Mrs. Baxter's vindictive- 
ness on the telephone toward Pro- 
fessor Younglove, when he called her 
house up from the Hoboken station, 
and of her dark hints about- what Ezra 
McCreevy and - the butcher, Herman 
Swartz, would do if they " could get 
hold " of him, the professor's self- 
confidence and intrepidity in going 
straightway to confront these gentle- 
men was nothing less than admirable. 

Even Myrlilla Ashe, who had re- 
mained on the Secaucus to return to 
Hoboken and who found Younglove 
in the ferry-house, waiting for a 
Twenty-Third Street boat, urged cau- 
tion and deliberate action. 

" How can one tell what a vulgar 
rich person like that woman's uncle 
might or might not do?" Myrlilla 
asked, as she and the professor went 
aboard together. " He blames you 
for her disappearance, when you had 
nothing to do with it, and it would be 
just his vulgar way to try to ruin your 
Health Circle for mere spite." 

" A good soldier," Younglove 
argued, " always faces the enemy. I 
want you to go right over to the office 
and stay till I see you or call you. 

"I've been trying for years to get 
into close touch with a man worth a 



lot of money, and now that I have 
learned that Ezra McCreevy is worth 
forty to fifty thousand dollars, I'm 
not going to lose the chance of meeting 
him even if it is his present intention 
to throw me out of the house." 

" You said he was old," she re- 
joined, " and I did not fear any physi- 
cal harm he might do to you." 

* .So you wouldn't want to see me 
hurt, not in any little way, Myrtilla? " 
Younglove queried. 

It was the second time he had called 
her by her first name. To do so fell 
quite naturally to him, he felt, as it 
did to lay his hand on her wrist and 
fix his blue eyes on hers with a con- 
centration he liever devoted to any" of 
his patients. 

" I count on you to help me recover 
YYalter — I mean Mr. Raleigh," Myr- 
tilla _ replied, lowering her lids and 
withdrawing her hand for the neces- 
sary purpose of smoothing her veil. 

"I shall, I will succeed!" Young- 
love declared, uttering his most popu- 
lar health and success formula, the 
while he played his finger-tips against 
one another. 

In just what he meant to succeed 
he did not mention to Myrtilla; but 
lapsed into one of his moods of con- 
centration, his gaze wandering far 
away upon the river. 

Myrtilla understood that he did not 
wish to be disturbed in such moments, 
and was silent. Moreover, she was 
turning over in her mind all he had 
told her about his hunt for Walter, as 
she called him, and the Lilliputian. 

Younglove did not speak again until 
they were leaving the boat on the New 
York side. 

" I do not object to telling you, just 
for yourself, Myrtilla," he said, roll- 
ing her name like candy on his tongue, 
" that I have a firm hope Miss Mc- 
Creevy will communicate with us at 
the office." 

" I must confess, professor," Myr- 
tilla replied, " that I really have no 
interest in that person. In fact, if it 
were not for your training of me jn 



NOTHING BUT 

the Health Circle, I should say I hate 
her and consider her an impudent, 
loud-mouthed piece of furniture."' 

" But you will be loyal to me, will 
you not, Myrtilla? " 

" Of course, of course, as I must be 
to myself; but I must watch my vibra- 
tions whenever that person is men- 
tioned." 

Vounglove had been preparing to 
confide to Myrtilla that, as it had been 
his suggestion to Miss McCreevy she 
would do well to be among the missing 
when her uncle and his butcher eligible 
appeared, there could be small doubt 
but that Sarah w ould keep the Health 
Circle discreetly advised of her where- 
abouts. 

He said no more about Miss Mc- 
Creevy therefore, and helping Myrtilla 
on to a cross-town car, walked the 
short distance eastward to Mrs. Bax- 
ter's house. 

Mrs. Baxter herself admitted him. 
Lean and fidgety, she was all atremble. 
If her two tiny dots of black eyes 
had been stilettos he would have been 
pierced from front to back. 

" I am Professor Younglove," he 
announced nevertheless in his suavest 
"manner. "Are you Mrs. Baxter?" 

" I am," she answered curtly, slam- 
ming the door. " Step into the par- 
lor." 

Unperturbed, Younglove placed his 
hat and overcoat on the rack in the 
hall, and, with a bow, indicated that 
she was to precede him into the parlor. 

As Younglove entered after her he 
made a mental note that the air of the 
long, old-fashioned room was bristling 
with inimical vibrations. 

It required a few seconds for his 
eyes to become accustomed to the 
light; yet he stood with his back to the 
windows, balancing almost unnotice- 
ably on heel and toe and playing his 
finger-tips together. 

" How do you do ? and good health 
to all who are here," he addressed 
them gravely, with authority. 

" Speech ! Speech ! " shrilled a voice 
far down in the room. 

'3 S 



THE TRUTH. 913 

" No, not exactly a speech, pretty 
Polly," Younglove said in his most 
beguiling tones to the bird. 

On the sofa at the right side of the 
room he saw lanky Mrs. Baxter, stiff 
and prim, beside the ponderous and 
fat Mrs. Howe. Opposite them on 
chairs sat two men. Younglove had 
no difficulty in distinguishing which 
was Ezra McCreevy and which Mr. 
Swartz, the butcher. 

Not one of these four persons, ad- 
dressed a word to him. 

" No speech, pretty Polly," Young- 
love went on, his eyes apparently see- 
ing only the parrot; " but the word of 
success and health to these good 
friends of ours here, and then — a mo- 
ment's silence that we may inspire 
strength, all of us, for the business we 
have in hand." 

'* No speeches, and no silences 
cither," Ezra McCreevy broke out in 
a high, nasal voice. " All we want is 
to know what you've done with my 
niece — do you hear?" 

Mr. McCreevy was a short, wizened, 
slight, man, with white hair and a yel- 
low skin. He wore a shepherd's-plaid 
cutaway suit, with straps under the in- 
step of his boots to hold down his 
trouser legs. 

" I am honored, sir, to meet you, 
Mr. McCreevy," was Younglove's re- 
sponse. . » 

Before testy Mr. McCreevy knew 
what the professor was about Young- 
love was holding his bony hand, 
murmuring : 

" Vibrations, perhaps, a trifle jan- 
gling to-day. It may be the unseason- 
able cold weather." 

Ezra McCreevy looked at the pro- 
fessor's round, sunshiny face, trying 
to frame an expression of disgust and 
ire suitable to the moment ; but Young- 
love was now gripping the butcher's 
big beefy palm. 

" And you, also, I am glad to know, 
Mr. Herman Swartz, I believe, of the 
Bronx. You cater to our merely 
physical needs in the way of meats and 
groceries, as I cater to our universal 



914 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



needs, psychical and physical. Both of 
us deal only in the first quality of 
goods' and never give short weight." 

" Dot's correct," the astonished 
Herman Swartz observed ; " but how- 
do you know ? You ain't never bought 
noddings by me." 

" Your vibrations are full, but a 
slight heaviness is noticeable, Mr. 
Swartz. Nothing to worry about, 
however,'' and paying no heed to Mr. 
Swartz's question, Younglove turned 
with a bow to the two ladies on the 
sofa. 

" Don't you touch my hand," 
snapped Mrs. Baxter, putting them 
both behind her back. " I don't be- 
lieve in fortune-tellers nor anything 
like that." 

" Ha-ha-ha ! " Younglove laughed 
cheerily. " I am no fortune - teller, 
Mrs. Baxter. I help people to make 
their own fortune in health-getting so 
they may win success by doing what 
they can do best to the best of their 
ability. And this lady, whom I have 
not had the pleasure — " 

" Mrs. Howe," said Mrs. Baxter; 
"she is one of Sarah McCreevy's 
dearest friends." 

Mrs. Howe gave a short, jerky bow 
of the head to Younglove and then 
turned to stare at Mrs. Baxter to see 
whether she was poking fun at her. 
She and Sarah McCreevy could not 
bear the sight of each other; and Mrs. 
Baxter knew it. 

" Votes for women! " Hannibal, the 
parrot, shrilled. " Who-eeeee ! " 

" Right you are, Polly," Younglove 
said, waving his hand toward the bird. 

" Mrs. Baxter," Ezra McCreevy be- 
gan irritably, " will you please stow 
that cussed bird somewheres? She 
seems to have as much to say as Pro- 
fessor Younglove. And it's all I can 
do to listen to one such talker." 

" You naughty, naughty Hannibal. 
You'll be drowned ; " with which Mrs. 
Baxter quickly went over and, picking 
up the parrot-perch, put Hannibal in 
the back parlor behind closed doors. 

The statement that she and Sarah . 



McCreevy were the dearest friends had 
been rankling in Mrs. Howe's ample 
bosom. It was a nasty, underhand 
kind of dig to give, anyhow, she 
thought, and when Mrs. Baxter re- 
turfled to the sofa she broke out before 
even Younglove could say a word. 

" All I wanted to know. Profess- 
or Younglove," she told him, " was 
whether you caught that little rat, 
Meislahn. He owes me a whacking 
big board bill, and I want to have him 
arrested for beating a hotel." 

" I have no word yet to give you, 
Mrs. Howe, but I have every reason 
to believe I shall have news for you 
later in the day. I have a whole rail- 
road company interested in my case. 
Here's one of my cards. Call me up 
at any time and come in to see me," 
and Younglove gave her the card. 

" Sit right back on the sofa where 
you were ! " Ezra McCreevy cried 
snappishly. " As the dearest friend of 
Sarah. I want you to stay. You may 
have an idea, or be of some help." 

Mrs. Howe sank back into her seat, 
flabbergasted. She might hate Sarah, 
but Sarah's uncle actually scared vo- 
lition out of her; and Mrs. Howe had 
a will of her own seven days of the 
week. 

" All dot hand-holding business iss 
ofer, ain'd it?" Herman Swartz in- 
quired of Younglove. " Now I want 
to tell you somedings. Der lady I was 
to marry to-day, she ain'd here. VVe 
was going to Atlantic City to - night. 
I had it all fixed; ain'd clot right. 
M'Greefy?" 

Swartz gave a glance at Mr. Mc- 
Creevy, but allowed him no time to 
reply. 

" We was coming back from our 
honeymoon on Monday morning. I 
told the boys at the store I'd be there 
at twelve o'clock, and me and my wife 
would settle right down to a sensible 
life. Now, what you done did mit my 
wife, you smart provessor?" 

" But she isn't your wife, and you 
haven't even met Miss McCreevy, as I 
understand," said Younglove. 



/ 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



915 



" Dot inakes noddings out. She 
would have been if you didn't do her 
something so she run away — and she 
wrote a queer letter, too. Like one of 
der letters der coroner collects," Swartz 
said accusingly. 

" Oh, for mercy sake, man, don't 
talk like that!" Mrs. Baxter whined 
from the sofa. 

" As a matter of absolute logic," in- 
terposed Ezra McCreevy in his most 
acid manner, " how could Mr. Swartz 
marry this woman if she wasn't here? 
How could he even meet her? Now, 
you who call yourself a man of educa- 
tion, professor, answer me that. You 
say she is not his wife. I say how 
could she be when she wasn't here? 
How could he meet her even — " 

" Your logic is without flaw. .Mr. 
McCreevy," Younglove replied most 
ingratiatingly; "but your vibrations 
are, if I must say it — " 

" You just leave my vibrations 
alone, Younglove," Ezra went on, 
rising to one of his frenzies. " You 
have no more to say about my vibra- 
tions than yott have about my socks. 
You are responsible for my niece's dis- 
appearance, what with your treatment 
of her and of the man who fooled her 
into believing he was going to marry 
her. You — " 

" I am responsible? My dear Mr. — " 

" No mush for me. thanks. I know 
all about your health institute or circle. 
Sarah told Mrs. Baxter before she ever 
went to see you of tl\e letters she got 
from you." 

" All I said was just what she told 
me herself." Mrs. Baxter chimed dole- 
fully. 

" Now. there are two people that I'm 
going to get by the short hair unless 
this thing is settled darned quickly. 
One is that man Withington, who 
played Sarah such a scurvy trick, and 
who, from what Mrs. Baxter said, is 
a kind of human nuisance, on all 
counts. The other is you. Why, man. 
I'll put you out of business. It ain't a' 
legitimate business, to my mind, in the 
first place." 



" My business, as you call it," 
Younglove retorted quietly, " is there 
for you or anybody to examine. It's 
done open and aboveboard. I would 
take some notice q4 your threats, Mr. 
McCreevy. if it were not that your vi- 
brations are in such a state of dis- 
order — " 

" Drat you. man. just keep off my 
vibrations ! " Ezra squeaked, much as 
if Younglove had stamped on his foot. 
'* All I got to say is that I've sent out 
a still alarm through the police for this 
Withington fellow and for Sarah, and 
if I find you and your vibrations are 
up to anv monkev business, I'll — 
I'll—" 

" Wass ist den dis here fibrating 
business? " Herman Swartz interrupt- 
ed, pulling his blond mustache with 
both hands at once and then folding his 
hands complacently on his well - indi- 
cated abdomen as though he dared 
Younglove to explain. " I been in 
groceries and meat aboud forty years, 
and nobody ain'd never yet try to sell 
me any such goods. Iss the Pure 
Food Act on it? " 

" Hold your tongue. Herman." Ezra 
snarled. 

Mr. Swartz's red face went purple 
with rage, but he did as ordered. 

It was not in Herman to offend a 
rich customer, especially when he ex- 
pected to join the family. Time enough 
then. 

" There's something besides gro- 
ceries and meat in this microcosm of 
ours." Younglove flung at the heavy, 
red - faced, prosperous grocer with 
gentle irony. 

"Now. vot's dot again? Micro- 
something." Swartz cut in. venting the 
anger Ezra had roused on Younglove. 
"' Anypotty should know you fellers is 
skins, the kind of langwitch you chuck 
in a man's face." 

" I'm willing to answer all questions, 
whoever asks them," the professor 
stated slowly. " but I can't talk to more 
than one of you at the time. Now I'm 
talking to Mr. McCreevy. I'll take you 
next in turn, Herman Swartz, and 



916 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



whatever groceries or meats you have 
to offer." 

The door-hell rang. 

" You'll have to excuse me," Mrs. 
Baxter announced, jumping up. " It's 
the girl's afternoon off, and I have to 
answer the bell." 

" Maybe it's some word from the 
police," suggested Mrs. Howe. 

The idea imposed silence on the 
others assembled in the room. Young- 
love took advantage of the first mo- 
ment of liberty he had since entering 
the parlor to find a chair for himself 
and sit down. 

In walked Mrs. Baxter presently, 
followed by a well-built, quick-eyed 
boy, who showed a lustrous red pom- 
padour as he snatched off his hat. 

Why, Algernon ! " Younglove ex- 
claimed ; and, turning to the others, 
added: "This is Algernon, my office- 
boy; in fact, the perfect office-boy." 

" How do you do? Good health." 
said Algernon to the company, and 
then handed a scaled letter to his em- 
ployer. 

"May I be excused?" Younglove 
said, and tore open the envelope. 

The two men and two women were 
all eyes on Younglove as he read the en- 
closure. Algernon stood by, his hat in 
his hand and his eyes riveted on the 
tips of his shoes. 

There were really two enclosures. 
One sheet of paper contained a short 
message from Myrtilla, informing 
Younglove that the people at the Ho- 
boken station had telephoned to say 
they could find no trace of the two 
persons Younglove had asked them to 
search for in the yards. Also, she was 
enclosing a note that she herself had 
opened, because it seemed better to do 
so in his absence. 

This note had been brought to Myr- 
tilla by one of the elevator men, who 
said he had found it on the floor of 
his car, and was unable to guess even 
who might have dropped it. as the 
building was crowded with people all 
the afternoon. 

Younglove read the second en- 



closure thoughtfully and went into one 
of his concentrating moods over it, as 
well he might : 

Dear Professor : 

1 don't know whether this will ever 
reach you, but if it doesn't 1 don't 
know what will happen to me. I got 
out before uncle and the butcher ar- 
rived, as there was nothing else to do. 
I left that note for Airs. Baxter and 
now I'm scared stiff. Suppose, I've 
been thinking, it gave a turn to uncle 
and he got a shock. Then where 
would I be? 

I could never forgive myself if any- 
thing happened to him, and besides, 
the way his will is now I wouldn't get 
a cent. 

You said you'd manage this matter, 
and you better had. What do I know 
about disappearing? I never disap- 
peared in my life. 

I've been walking round Central 
Park till I feel even the statues could 
identify me. I'm going to take a chance 
and sneak into your building on the 
basement floor and leave this in the 
elevator. 

Of course you always understood, I 
hope, that I meant to pay you well if 
you fixed up Ralph and me and got us 
righted with uncle. So don't think 
your time and expenses will not be ap- 
preciated. 

But keep your promise and act at 
once. I can't be left alone first by 
Ralph and then by you ; and I'd rather 
be ground up into mincemeat than 
marry the richest butcher in the Bronx 
or anywhere else. 

A Friend in Distress. 

" Act at once," Younglove reflected. 
" And the only clue she gives me to act 
on is the statues in Central Park. Yet 
she says she doe$ not know how to dis- 
appear ! " 

He folded both enclosures, replaced 
them in the envelope, which he put in 
his pocket, and. telling Algernon to 
bid Miss Ashe wait for him at the office, 
dismissed the boy. 

" When you're all through - with your 
affairs." Ezra McCreevy 'opened up 
tartly. " I suppose you'll remember, 
sir. that you came here to repair the 
damage you have done to mine. Or 
maybe you think I can be coming down 
every day in the week to present a 
husband to my fool-headed niece." 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



917 



"Calm yourself — calm!" Young- 
love adjured, waving his hands slowly 
toward McCreevy, the while his brain 
was revolving a daring scheme to get 
himself out of his present predicament 
and gather a couple of rich clients. 

All he needed was time. Time — that 
no man's money could buy and only the 
fertile mind of Thaddeus Younglove 
could procure. 

"1 won't be calm ! '" old Ezra 
squealed. " Drat my boots if I'll be 
calm just because you ask me ! " 

" Then listen and show some sense,'' 
Younglove retorted. " I have just re- 
ceived word from my secretary, who 
had the pleasure of meeting Miss Mc- 
Creevy this morning, that your niece 
telephoned to the office at about a quar- 
ter after four that she was leaving for 
Atlantic City, to be gone for several 
days. 

" She did not know when she would 
be back, but as she had an appointment 
with me for to-morrow morning, she 
did not want me to be expecting her." 

" But Miss McCreevy knew you 
went after that worthless Mr. Withing- 
ton," observed Mrs. Baxter. " And 
why should she leave such a strange 
letter for me, slipping out of the house 
unnoticed when she expected her uncle, 
because he had written to her? " 

" Nothing is so easily explained," 
Younglove answered. " In the tumult- 
uous conditions of her vibrations — " 

" Oh. drat vibrations ! " Ezra ejacu- 
lated. 

Well, then, in the state of mind 
she found herself on account of Mr. 
Withington's strange and sudden be- 
havior, she clean forgot about her un- 
cle's visit. Every idea went out of her 
head except the mysterious conduct of 
Mr. Withington. Is anything more 
natural? " 

" But that letter she left for me?" 
Mrs. Baxter argued. 

Younglove asked to be allowed to 
read the letter. It was given to him, 
and. having read it, he returned it to 
Mrs. Baxter. 

" The letter just proves my point," 



Younglove commented. " She can 
think of nothing but that man and his 
two suit-cases. When she wrote it she 
probably had no idea where she was 
going, and therefore the letter is vague. 

" But you see that she is in her right 
mind. Why shouldn't she go to At- 
lantic City? Why shouldn't she can- 
cel her appointments with me. with her 
dentist, or anybody? People forget to 
do it often enough, and it costs us time 
and money; but Miss McCreevy is a 
lady." 

" Yes, and there are millions of la- 
dies in Atlantic City," Ezra McCreevy 
rasped. " How are we going to find 
her there ? " 

" I don't think that should be hard," 
Younglove replied, talking slowly as 
he realized the pyramid he was stand- 
ing on end for himself. " My secre- 
tary asked for her address — as we 
keep in close touch with all our clients 
— and she said she did not know where 
she would stop, except that it would 
be at some small, quiet hotel. We 
could write to her in care of general 
delivery." 

" If that ain't my fool of a niece all 
over, cutting up like a monkey on a 
stick!" Ezra fairly gasped. "'Why 
couldn't she act like any other woman 
and wait till she got a husband to take 
her to Atlantic City^ " 

You forget, my dear friend," said 
Younglove with more assurance, feel- 
ing he had the company running with 
him, " that Miss McCreevy had con- 
tracted an attachment for Mr. With- 
ington before you mentioned Mr. 
Swartz." 

" Hang Withington ! " cried Ezra. 
" He's jest the most ornery sort of 
quitter." 

" Now, if I might suggest a way to 
you for handling Miss . McCreevy in 
her present disturbed condition — " 

" Go ahead, Younglove. I wish any- 
body had the managing of her but me. 
Good gravy! if I had known forty 
years ago a man's niece could give him 
so much trouble, I'd have married and 
had trouble with children of my own." 



918 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" Then why don't yon and Mr. 
Swartz go down to Atlantic City?" 
Yonnglove asked. " It will be easy to 
trace your niece there through Gen- 
eral Delivery."' 

"Me go to Atlantic City?" Ezra 
demanded contemptuously. " Why, I 
haven't been out of the Bronx but 
twice in the last twelve months. That's 
where my houses and land are, and 
that's where I belong." 

" But it's like dis," Swartz inter- 
posed. " If we go to Adlandig Cidy 
and find Sarah, can't I marry her by 
der ocean just as well as here in New 
York by land ? Besides, you was going 
to come mit us, anyway, on der honey- 
moon, wasn't you, till she got agguaint- 
ed mit me? " 

"Nothing of the sort!" Ezra 
snapped. " Whoever heard of a bridal 
couple having a second man trailing 
along on their honeymoon? I meant 
to get right back to my house in Van- 
dyver Avenue this very evening." 

" I don't think it would be wise for 
you to write to your niece and tell her 
to return to New York, in view of the 
strain she is now under," Yonnglove 
counseled. " I urge you strongly to 
go down there, see her. cheer her up — 
both you and Mr. Swartz — and of 
course, as Mr. Swartz says. Miss Mc- 
Creevy can be married at Atlantic City 
as easily as here." 

Ezra meditated, puffing his thin lips 
as though he had a pipe between them. 
" I'll go. then." he announced at length, 
" but right away and now. 

" Come on, Herman ; find your bag 
and we'll be off. There's any number 
of trains to Atlantic City, and the 
sooner I get down there and put some 
sense into Sarah the sooner I'll be 
back." 

He got up spryly from his chair and 
trotted out to the hall to find his hat 
and coat. Herman Swartz lumbered 
after him. 

Mrs. Baxter and Mrs. Howe were 
saying good-by, when the latter broke 
out with : 

" Suppose the police should come 



here about Mr. Withington, what could 
we two women do? " 

" I never once thought of it! " Mrs. 
Baxter cried. " Now, Mr. McCreevy, 
I don't want the police comjng to my 
house unless you're here. I don't 
know how to talk to them, and be- 
sides—" 

" They won't come here, Mrs. Bax- 
ter," Younglove put in with one of his 
curved gestures that meant " don't 
worry." " I'll have that alarm fixed 
so the report will come to my address. 
That is, unless you have an objection, 
Mr. McCreevy." 

" There can't be any report now 
about Sarah — that is. we don't need 
any — so long's we know where she is," 
said Ezra, opening the door. " As 
for that fellow Withington — " 

" I'll take care of him," interposed 
Younglove, " and if you and Mr. 
Swartz wish it I'll show you the quick- 
est way to Atlantic City.'' 

Whether they very much wished it 
or not, Younglove stuck to them like a 
leech until he saw them irrevocably 
aboard a train at the Pennsylvania 
Station. They had been obliged to 
wait half an hour, during which the 
professor and Ezra between them made 
arrangements with the police over the 
telephone. 

Younglove wanted Ezra to cancel 
the search order for his niece, but the 
old man declined, saying: 

" If she's in Atlantic City it won't 
do any harm, and if she isn't it may 
do some good. With a woman like 
Sarah I won't be sure where she is 
until I see her there." 

" And you'll wire me your address 
as soon as you find a stopping-place ? " 
Younglove asked. 

Herman Swartz had already gone 
into the car to pick a choice seat. Ezra 
remained on the station platform, talk- 
ing with Younglove. for whom he was 
beginning to show the faintest signs of 
confidence and respect. 

"I will," Ezra replied. "You'll 
keep me notified if anything important 
happens, won't you? Send your tele- 



NOTHING BUT 



THE TRUTH. 



919 



grams ' collect,' " and, presenting his 
ticket, he went through the gate. 

To send his telegram " collect." was 
the only intimation Younglove received 
that Ezra had any dawning suspicion 
of compensating the professor for his 
time and services. Yet Younglove re- 
turned to his office with the satisfac- 
tion of knowing that his magnetic cur- 
rents, at first so repellent to Sarah's 
uncle, were becoming attractive. 

If things went only half-way well 
with him, Ezra in time should become 
one of his most profitable patients. It 
made Younglove smile to think of 
Sarah's worry about her uncle's will. 

Though about sixty - five, the old 
man seemed sound and good for many 
years to come. The only thing the 
matter with him was his cantankerous 
disposition and his tendency to change 
his mind unreasonably. No person 
was more suitable as a test for the 
Health Circle's theory and practise. 

Yet the professor had too risky and 
perilous an enterprise under way now 
to think of losing time patting himself 
on the back. Ezra would not find his 
niece at Atlantic City, and Younglove 
must have traced her before he re- 
turned to New York if he hoped to 
keep in the old man's good graces. 

Find Sarah, recover Withington, 
and smooth the way to their union 
meant money, steadv patients — and 
Myrtilla! 

Withington ought not to remain long 
among the missing, he reasoned, be- 
cause in his talk over the telephone 
with the police he had been able to give 
much more definite information about 
the last seen of Ralph and his dwarf 
companion than Ezra had provided. 

Sarah — as he murmured the name 
to himself Younglove thought of the 
acreage of Central Park and the abso- 
lute heedlessness of the woman in wri- 
ting him a letter without putting any 
address or place of meeting in it. 

It was dark now. She would not 
dare stay in the park, or would she? 
It might be she had ventured agaifl to 
communicate with his office. 



It was six o'clock when Younglove 
reached the office. A light shone 
through the glass half of the door, but 
the door was locked. 

He opened it with his key, not sur- 
prised that Algernon should be gone; 
but disappointed that Myrtilla had not 
waited for him. 

A note lay on his desk. It was 

signed " M. A." 

I waited till a quarter before six, 
and could wait no longer. I told you 
it is my life-work to recover him. I'll 
be down first thing" in the morning. 

The message had palpably been 
scrawled in haste. Younglove consid- 
ered it in somewhat crestfallen mood. 

He had counted on Myrtilla to aid 
him in tracing Miss McCreevy. He 
had intended even, having the money, 
to give her a good dinner at a restau- 
rant and talk with her about the Health 
Circle, its fine prospects, and about 
himself. 

From the moment she confided to 
him her years - agone engagement to 
Ralph Withington or Walter Raleigh, 
all the professor's latent yearning for 
his secretary grew more and more ap- 
parent to him. He was ready now to 
neglect his business if necessary to 
win her. 

And in this most ticklish situation 
in which he had ever been plunged she 
had left the office with less courtesy 
than she had always shown when she 
could have had no idea that he cared 
for her. After he had sent a specific 
message, too. by Algernon that she 
was to wait till he came. 

He sat at his desk and ate a whole 
box of Loso Peanuts, the first morsel 
'if food he had tasted since breakfast. 

" 1 shall — I will be better for eating 
Loso Peanuts," he said to himself over 
and over again. 

At length the shadows fled from his 
resilient brain. He got up, turned off 
the lights, and went out, leaving all 
care behind him. 

He had decided to have a good din- 
ner and then ride up - town and see 
Myrtilla at her apartment. 



920 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



On his way to dinner he got in touch 
again with the police over the tele- 
phone and suggested that, as Miss Mc- 
Creevy had always liked to walk in 
Central Park, it might he well to have 
the park thoroughly searched. • 



CHAPTER X. 

RIVAL BEAUTIES. 

Not ten minutes before the arrival 
of Younglove had Myrtilla written her 
note to him and hurried away. Alger- 
non was already dismissed when a 
man's voice engaged her on the tele- 
phone. 

The man asked for Professor 
Younglove, but after some hesitation 
seemed content to accept the ear of 
his secretary on account of the profes- 
sor's absence. 

Then a woman spoke to her — the 
woman she considered as the soil be- 
neath her feet — yet whom she had to 
deal with deferentially and, what was 
worse, whom she had to fear. 

It was Sarah McCreevy. 

" You Professor Younglove's secre- 
tary?'' she asked almost petulantly, 
not that she meant to be, but because 
she was footsore and brain-wear}'. 

" I am Miss Ashe, his secretary," 
Myrtilla answered with reserved con- 
tempt. 

" Then for mercy sake tell him I'm 
going crazy ! " poor Sarah entreated. 
" I have been wandering round the 
park all afternoon, and here it's dark 
and I have no answer to the letter I 
sent him and I don't know which way 
to turn. 

" I didn't bring only a little money 
with me, and what will people think 
of me going to a hotel alone? And 
I'll have to stop disappearing and go 
back and face the music with my uncle 
unless the professor does what he said 
he would do and ought to have done 
two hours ago." 

" Where are you now? " asked Myr- 
tilla. 

" In a drug-store somewhere in One 



Hundred and Tenth Street. I think. I 
am just cross the way from the park. 
Tell him I won't pay him a cent of 
what I promised unless he keeps his 
word; and, what's more, I'll make him 
give back that five dollars I paid him 
already, because it's all his fault that 
Ralph ran away from me in the first 
place, and I'll sue him for alienation 
O'f affections." 

Myrtilla's eyes glowed with a strange 
light and one of her Elizabethan sneer- 
ing smiles curled on her lips. 

" The professor urges you to be 
calm," she said slowly, though her 
own brain whirled with an inspiration 
that had just come to her. 

" Be calm ! Is that all he has to say? 
I wonder if he'd he calm if he was in 
my shoes? " 

" Pie could not remain here," Myr- 
tilla went on, " because he is treating 
your uncle in order to bring him into 
the proper frame of mind toward your 
proposed marriage." 

" You mean, he's trying to wean 
him away from that German butcher, 
or what? " 

" He's trying to make him see things 
with a little understanding of your 
point of view, and so he told me if 
you called here or sent any word — " 

" Sent any word? " Sarah interrupt- 
ed sharply. " Wasn't my letter any 
word, and pretty plain at that, requir- 
ing an answer right away? " 

" Yes, my clear ! " Myrtilla cooed ; 
" but there was no address on your 
letter. The nearest thing to an address 
was the statement that you had been 
roaming in Central Park." 

Sarah was silent for a moment, and 
then confessed : " Honest, Miss Ashe, 
there are times when I think my uncle 
is right in calling me a fool. But then 
I've been so upset all day." 

" I can't say any more on the wire," 
Myrtilla pursued, " except that the 
professor wants me to go to you at 
once. I will tell you everything when 
I see you." 

" You mean you have news of 
Ralph ? " 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



921 



" Not yet, but we have no reason not 
to hope we shall have soon.'' 

'* Do you want me to go down to 
the office? " 

"No, no. — for pity's sake no!" 
Myrtilla said quickly. 

Her scheme seemed better and better 
the more she thought ahead with it. 
Her dark eyes were dazzling bright. 
There was a note almost of gaiety in 
her voice. 

•' Well, what am I to do, then?" 
asked Sarah. 

" You are to meet me at the corner 
of One Hundred and Sixth Street and 
Central Park West in half an hour. 
That's about the time it will take me 
to get there. Now, be a good, brave 
girl and all will be well with you." 

" You're so kind I could kiss you," 
Sarah cried emotionally over the wire. 

Myrtilla hung up her receiver, ran 
for her hat and coat, and scribbled the 
note for Professor Younglove the last 
thing before she left the office. 

There was a cruel smile on her face. 
She laughed now and then on her way 
up - town ; and again she would say 
repeatedly to herself, snapping her 
teeth together : 

"It is fate, destiny, and she must 
not stand in the way of it! " 

When Sarah saw her get off the car 
at One Hundred and Sixth Street she 
made a rush for Myrtilla and lifted 
her off the ground, embracing her and 
hugging her. 

" What would have become of me 
if it wasn't for you, you dear darling 
woman?" cried Sarah. 

Myrtilla yielded a traitorous kiss 
and squeezed Sarah's hand, saying : 

" We must walk across town to 
Broadway and take a car there, for I 
live much farther to the north of the 
metropolis; and we must not be seen 
by any one who knows you." 

Sarah clung to Myrtilla's hand as 
though she was a child, while in fact 
she would have made two of Myrtilla 
as far as height and frame go. 

"'Am I going to your house?" in- 
quired Sarah innocently. 



"Not so loud; yes," Myrtilla an- 
swered. " The professor believes this 
is the only safe way for you to disap- 
pear, because he may have to produce 
you at any moment." 

" You said he went to see my 
uncle? " 

" He's with your uncle now." Myr- 
tilla said, walking faster, stimulated in 
her design by the complete trustfulness 
of the hot-headed, guileless Sarah. 
" We must not talk much until we get 
to my apartment. You never can tell 
who's listening to you in the streets 
or the cars." 

This was sufficient for Sarah. There 
was not a word from then until Myr- 
tilla stopped in front of her house, 
saying : 

" This is the Darnley. where I live." 

" Is that a park across the street ? " 
Sarah inquired. " And why is it up . 
so high in the air? " 

" That is an ancient cemetery." 
Myrtilla replied somberly. " It's up 
high like that because all the place was 
a hill about here in olden times before 
the streets were cut through and lev- 
eled." 

" Bless me! " Sarah ejaculated trem- 
ulously, " do I have to be disappeared 
across the way from a cemetery? " 

" I live at the rear of this mansion 
and on the top floor." Myrtilla ex- 
plained haughtily as they went in. 

" Won't the hall-boy see me? " Sarah 
inquired timidly. 

" There are no hall-boys and no ele- 
vators in this building, you must 
know." Myrtilla informed Sarah, as 
though Sarah had been guilty of gross 
impropriety in suggesting such an idea. 
" I abominate such modern nuisances. 
From two of my windows you will 
have a view of the lordly Hudson and 
the unparalleled Palisades. Thus you 
need not pine for lack of beauteous 
nature during your incarceration." 

" What lovely big words you speak," 
Sarah declared admiringly, not paying 
much attention to what Myrtilla meant, 
but rapt with the way she talked and 
impressed with her queenlike airs, 



922 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



which became more queenlike as soon 
as they came within her apartment. 

MyrtHla displayed her collection of 
books on Sir Walter Raleigh, not one 
of which she had ever read. All she 
knew about him and Queen Elizabeth 
she had imbibed from her mother by 
word of mouth and had spent the rest 
of her time growing up in the Eliza- 
bethan tradition. She showed Sarah 
old English pewters and her historical 
prints, but Sarah's heart was taken and 
held by the kitchen. 

" Oh, if Ralph and I could only be 
married and have a dear little Hat like 
this ! " Sarah cried. " Fd cook and bake 
for him the whole day long!" 

Myrtilla tossed her head and her 
teeth gleamed under her smiling lip; 
but she said very sweetly : 

" Sarah — you must let me call you 
Sarah — I'm afraid you will have to be 
content with a slice of cold joint and 
tea to-night, because it would not be 
prudent for us to risk being seen in a 
restaurant." 

" That will be fine," Sarah voted en- 
thusiastically. " You know I'm sick of 
restaurants and the boarding-house, 
and I said to myself over and over 
again once Ralph and I got married 
we would never — never — eat in a res- 
taurant again."' 

"Let us eat something first." Myr- 
tilla counseled in a tone rather ominous, 
" and then we'll discuss that gentle- 
man." 

Though it was unpleasant to hear 
Ralph referred to as " that gentleman." 
Sarah took no offense, believing it was 
merely Miss Ashe's manner of speech. 

But when they were seated after 
supper in the front room, with two 
shaded candles on a little round table 
between them, and Myrtilla. eyes and 
teeth gleaming, as if she would transfix 
and gobble simple Sarah at one and the 
same time, there came back to Sarah 
the strange ring in Myrtilla's voice as 
she said " that gentleman." 

" It is hard for me to do it." Myr- 
tilla was saying now. " but I must. 
You have been deceived in that man." 



Kindness made Sarah pliable as 
dough, but strike a spark of antagonism 
and all the courage of uncounted Scot- 
tish chiefs throbbed in her veins. 

" Ralph deceive me? Ralph deceive 
anybody? " she cried. " What rot you 
are talking ! The poor dear never told 
a lie in his life. That's just what kept 
him sad and made other people sad 
and avoid him. He simply would tell 
nothing but the truth." 

" In the first place." Myrtilla contin- 
ued, steady and baleful. " Ralph With- 
ington is not really his name." 

" O-ho! " Sarah laughed and ran up 
a crescendo of giggles; " that's the best 
I ever heard." 

" The man's real name is Walter 
Raleigh, laugh tho\igh you may," Myr- 
tilla ■ proceeded, tense and dramatic. 
" Several years ago in a beautiful city 
a thousand miles from here he was 
solemnly betrothed to wed a girl of his 
own class and station." 

" Well— of all things ! " cried Sarah, 
her face red with anger; "and I sup- 
pose you think I'm not good enough 
to get off at the same station he does." 

" I mean rank, lineage." Myrtilla de- 
claimed, rearing herself haughtily on 
her chair. " You must hear me out. 
and believe me as you will or not. He 
abandoned this girl not long after the 
betrothal, slipped away from his home 
in the night like a thief, changed his 
name, and came East. His coming to 
Professor Younglove to-day undid 
him. His villainy came to the surface. 
He knew there was no hope for him 
save in flight, and so " — Myrtilla's 
voice trailed down the steep — " he 
fled." 

" I knew all the time it was that old 
Loso Younglove that got us into this 
mess," Sarah declared, smacking the 
table with the palm of her hand. " And 
now he has me on the run, too. See 
here, Myrtilla, I'm going to cut this dis- 
appearing act. 

' If I had known that was why poor 
Ralph ran away I never would have 
done it. I would have faced my uncle 
and made him help me find the dear 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



923 



fellow. Look at all the time I've wasted 
and nearly walked the legs off myself 
in Central Park. Where did you put 
my hat? " And Sarah stood up. 

" What — you would trust him when 
he has abandoned — " Myrtilla was say- 
ing slowly. 

" Pie won't abandon me. I know 
that. Myrtilla: and that's all any wom- 
an needs to know about a man." 

" But suppose the other woman 
won't let you — that is, obliges him to 
abide by his betrothal, which was duly 
recorded and published?" said Myr- 
tilla. 

"Who is she? Where is she?" 
asked Sarah, squaring her shoulders 
and looking about as though the wom- 
an might be in hiding in the flat. 

" That, of course, you'll have to find 
out from Professor Younglove," Myr- 
tilla said. " Now. like a brave, dear 
representative of your sex, Sarah, sit 
down and be calm. Remember the 
Health Circle." 

" I'll sit down, Myrtilla. but as for 
. being calm you might as well ask me 
to stand on my head. What I want to 
know is whether the professor is work- 
ing for me or for this other person? " 

" He is working for you ; that I can 
say positively," and this positively Myr- 
tilla believed. 

It was because she saw how deter- 
mined Younglove was to bring the man 
who called himself Withington and Sa- 
rah together that she had the inspira- 
tion to put a spoke in his wheel by 
taking Sarah secretly in charge. 

If I can only see Walter long 
enough. - ' she reasoned, " to talk with 
him sensibly and bring back all those 
far-gone days of bliss unalloyed. I'm 
sure he'll forget his mad act and all its 
consequences and return to the bosom 
to which he rightfully belongs." 

" If you're sure he's working for my 
interest," Sarah remarked, as if speak- 
ing to herself. " then I suppose I ought 
to be content to stay here and await 
instructions. But I don't feel like it. 
and I wish you had kept those lies 
about Ralph to yourself. Myrtilla." 



" It is much wiser to know why he 
ran away, my dear Sarah, than to be 
in the dark about him." 

" I know that, and I'm. grateful to 
you," Sarah admitted as she touched 
her eyelids suspiciously with a corner 
of her handkerchief. " When I think 
I used nearly to kill myself laughing 
at him, and ever since this morning my 
eyes are like two pumps. I know I 
wouldn't laugh if I saw him now." 

She got up and went round to em- 
brace Myrtilla. 

" Forgive me. dear," she entreated ; 
" I'm such a fool. But any woman is 
when she's in love. Some day you'll 
realize it yourself." 

"Some day!" Myrtilla echoed, her 
eyes shining, her lip curved in the 
haughty sneering smile that she con- 
sidered one of her ancestral accom- 
plishments. 

The situation was one to stir Myrtil- 
la's romantic nature to the depths. She 
felt triumphantly that she was acting 
with a finesse and cleverness worthy of 
her Elizabethan lineage. 

The poor, simple, hot-headed Sarah 
McCrcevy had given herself into her 
power trustingly, without question. 
Myrtilla could keep her captive in the 
fiat, under the circumstances, as safely 
as though she had her shut up in a 
dungeon On the English estate that she 
always envisaged as her ultimate resi- 
dence. 

Professor Younglove, in seeking out 
the man who falsely called himself 
Ralph Withington. would be playing 
right into her hand when he believed 
he was working only for the renowai 
and profit of his Health Circle. 

The buzzing of the door-bell gave 
sudden pause to Myrtilla's gloating re- 
flections. 

"Quick, quick, Sarah!" she whis- 
pered, taking the limp .Sarah by the 
hand. " Nobody must see you here — 
no one ! Not even my washerwoman. 
That's the professor's orders." 

Myrtilla pressed the button of the 
door-opener in the kitchen and left Sa- 
rah shut up in that small room. 



924 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" It's the safest place for you, dear,'' 
she said. 

"Can I wash the dishes?'" Sarah 
asked. "I- got to do something. I'm 
that nervous." 

" Look at the evening paper and 
make no noise." Myrtilla advised. " If 
it's the washerwoman I won't be kept 
more than ten minutes. But don't come 
out of here or you will ruin all the pro- 
fessor's plans for your happiness." 

Even if Sarah had had the least idea 
of doing anything but obeying Myrtil- 
la's mysterious orders, she could not 
have gone very far. Myrtilla locked 
both bedroom doors and the rear door 
of the flat before going into the parlor. 

There were two doors of solid wood 
and two rooms between her and Sarah. 
Pulling a heavy portiere across the 
door between the first bedroom and 
the parlor. Myrtilla draped herself 
against it statuesquely for a moment, 
saying inwardly : 

" My success is only beginning. I 
must be calm." 

Poised and listening, she heard a 
light step coming along the hall and 
then a knock on the parlor door. 

Myrtilla opened it at once. 

" Good evening. Myrtilla.*' Profes- 
sor Younglove greeted her. " and good 
health ! i just had to come to see you 
for a moment." 

Myrtilla noted that his habitual 
smile was weary, and that altogether 
his presence lacked the usual cheer ami 
sprightliness. 

'* Welcome, professor." she said, 
and indicated a chair to him. " 
» " You did not wait for me at the 
office. I was disappointed.'" he told 
her, and sat down slowly. 

" The toil of the day. the medley of 
sensations and emotions, professor, 
were too much for me. You will un- 
derstand that after all these years of 
hoping and striving to find him how 
great a strain I have been under." 

" I've had a long, hard day myself."' 
Younglove returned ; " and the way 
things look now I don't expect to sleep 
much to-night." 



" Then you have word of Walter — 
I mean, well, you know? " 

*' Not a word; nor of her either. 
You read the letter that came from 
her saying she was roaming about 
Central Park, did you not? " 

" It seemed better for me to read it 
when you were not at the office. I 
felt I might be able to do something 
right off." 

I counted on that much intelli- 
gence and loyalty from you, Myrtilla."' 
Younglove observed, and leaning for- 
ward in his chair murmured softly: " I 
count on a good deal from you, per- 
haps much more than I shall ever get. 
Yet, working along the curved line of 
the Health Circle, I tell myself I will, I 
shall succeed." 

" Myrtilla, I never realized until to- 
day how fond I have, grown of you. 
I've been absorbed in my devotion to 
humanity, not conscious, though sub- 
conscious of the fact all along that you 
were the dearest person of all hu- 
manity to me. Still I have been using 
every effort to recover this man who 
— well, who seems disinclined to marry 
you." 

" Everything must yield' before the 
destiny to which Walter and I were 
vowed solemnly so many years agone." 
-Myrtilla declared in low thrilling tones. 

" Do you expect to make him marry 
you? "' 

" He will listen to reason and the 
call of duty, professor. I shall per- 
suade him back again to the dear, 
sweet heing he was in adolescence, if 
only I can be with him long enough."' 

" You can't say I'm not doing my 
best to find him. though it's against my 
own interest, can you. Myrtilla?" 

" I wonder." Myrtilla asked, coyly 
shaking the twinkling patent-leather 
toe of her shoe under the edge of her 
skirt; " and I have wondered whether 
you are not making these endeavors as 
much for that person, Sarah Mc- 
Creevy. as for me?"' 

" I get all the blame for her disap- 
pearance," Younglove answered 
promptly. " Her uncle threatened to 



NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 



925 



put me out of business, hinted that I 
was all kinds of a faker. The old man 
is positively erratic in his vibrations. 
There was no way of handling him ex- 
cept on an intricate curved line." 

The professor narrated the ruse by 
which he had induced Ezra ami Mr. 
Swartz to go to Atlantic City. 

" But he won't find her there,"' Myr- 
tilla remarked, with a dawning smile. 
" You'll be worse off, I fear me, when 
he comes back." 

" I felt I could get hold of her in a 
day or two. I think I can keep her 
uncle and his butcher away for that 
long. If she stays anywhere in New 
York we ought to get news of her and 
of Ralph Withington soon, because 
her uncle sent out a police alarm for 
both of them." 

"A police alarm?'' Myrtilla echoed 
with a shudder. " How inexpressibly 
plebeian." 

" Oh. it's a still alarm," Younglove 
explained quickly. " The papers won't 
hear anything about it for a few days 
at least. The old man is no more 
anxious to get his own name or his 
niece's into print than you or 1 are to 
see ours." 

" If he had arty real family pride, or 
any family to be really proud of, pro- 
fessor, it seems to me he might have 
engaged a private detective agency." 

" He does everytbing in jerks." 
Younglove told her. " and that's why 
I had to send him and his butcher off 
the field, or you and I, Myrtilla. would 
not be able to do anything without 
having him interfere." 

" I must say," Myrtilla replied cold- 
ly, " that I am interested in finding 
only one person. I do not need to tell 
you who that is." 

A loud knock on the hall door 
caused Myrtilla to start violently. 

" My vibrations are all awry, I fear 
me," she sighed. " It is the dreadful 
day I've been through." 

She was reasoning that the bell must 
have rung in the kitchen. Sarah had 
answered it with the door-opener. 
Would Professor Younglove suspect 



that any other person than themselves 
was in her apartment ? 

Meanwhile she had opened the door 
to see a messenger-boy. 

"Is Professor Younglove here, care 
of Miss Ashe? " the boy asked. 

" For you, professor," Myrtilla said, 
waving the boy within the room with 
a queenly gesture. 

" Are you sent from the Hotel Rad- 
ford?" Younglove inquired, taking 
the telegram and signing for it. 

" Yes, sir." 

Younglove gave the boy a tip, who 
v anished with a grin and a mumbled 
thanks. 

" I left word with the night clerk at 
my hotel," Younglove explained While 
he tore open the message, " that if he 
heard from the police about Mr. With- 
ington or Miss McCreevy he was to 
send a boy right up here, even if I 
should be gone, as I was going to re- 
turn to the Radford straight from see- 
ing you." 

One glance at the night clerk's note 
was sufficient for Younglove. He 
handed it to Myrtilla. clapped his 
hands together and said with sup- 
pressed enthusiasm : 

"' Nothing but success lies inside the 
Health Circle. See for yourself!" 

" It is the destiny of the Raleighs 
which cannot be evaded," Myrtilla 
droned solemnly, a glitter of rejoicing 
in her dark eyes. 

Younglove warmed with admira- 
tion at her pose and her brilliant orbs ; 
but the Raleigh-talk made his back 
ache. 

" 1 have read it," she said, returning 
the note. " Night though it be, we 
must venture forth at once." 

" What, you, Myrtilla? " Younglove 
queried, considering the note anew. 
" He says a police sergeant informs 
me that Ralph Withington and his 
dwarf companion are at the Hotel di 
Rocca in the Bronx. There's no 
charge against them, but the police 
think they can persuade them to stay 
where they are for a little while. Have 
you any idea where Kalima Avenue 



926 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



and One Hundred and Sixtieth Street 
is in the Bronx? " 

" Though we did not arrive at the 
Hotel di Rocca before dawn, still I 
should go with you., professor. - ' 

If the professor had only known 
what was going on inside Myrtiila's 
brain he would have understood that 
her greater worry than a night adven- 
ture into the Bronx was what she was 
to contrive as an excuse for leaving 
Sarah McCreevy alune in the apart- 
ment. How. also, 'was she to keep her 
there assuredly until she relumed? 

" The first thing to do. professor," 
said Myrtilla, taking things in her own 
hands as she had never presumed be- 
fore to dare, " is for you to go out and 
hire a taxicab. This is all my affair, 
and I cannot think of letting you go 
to any expense in the matter."' 

She told him where he could find a 
taxicab station at which she had an 
account. 

'* 1 E you bring the vehicle inside of 
ten minutes — " 

" But, my dear Myrtilla." he pro- 
tested. " this appears a most impru- 
dent thing for you to do. Why not let 
me see the man first and talk to him? 
It'll be eleven o'clock before I get to 
the Hotel di Rocca." 

" Each minute lost is like a day to 
me," she argued. " And suppose that 
McCreevy person should have located 
him before we do? Have you thought 
of that? " 

" That's impossible." 

"Impossible? Nothing is impossi- 
ble to a — I must steady my vibrations. 
Quickly, professor. I entreat you." and 
Myrtilla held the door open for him. 

" In ten minutes, then," Younglove 
agreed wearily. 

If she must come, she would; and 
already his fertile mind had begun to 
frame a plan for recovering Sarah 
through the medium of Ralph YYith- 
ington. How he was to do this he did 
not know : but he did know that he 
would have to do it somehow. 

At this very moment the testy and 
.irascible Ezra McCreevy and his prac- 



tical friend, Swartz, who was bent on 
being back to his butcher-siore first 
thing Monday morning, might be pre- 
paring to come to New York next day, 
having found no trace of Sarah at 
general delivery or .any other place in 
Atlantic City. 

Myrtilla steadied herself to face 
Sarah. She unlocked the first bed- 
room door. She slipped on her jacket 
and hat, noting that Sarah's things lay 
safely on the bed. She stowed them 
in one of her closets under several 
< ither garments. 

She unlocked the door of the second 
bedroom and passed through hurried- 
ly. She would tell Sarah that Profes- 
sor Younglove was still in consultation, 
with her uncle and Mr. Swartz at the 
Baxter boarding-house, where they 
were decided to remain until Sarah ap- 
peared there or was discovered. 

YeL she had also some good news for 

ft 

Sarah. Professor Younglove had re- 
ceived 'a message about Ralph or some 
one who was said to look like him. 

This message seemed to be worth 
investigation ; and as Professor 
Younglove was about to stay with Mr. 
.McCreevy, laboring on Sarah's behalf, 
he had instructed Myrtilla to follow 
up the message. In the mean time it 
was of the highest importance that 
Sarah remain in seclusion. 

Some moments elapsed before Myr- 
tilla was able to convince herself that 
all this elaborate preparation was waste 
of energy. 

She gazed about bewildered. She 
tried the back door of the flat. The 
spring-lock was fast and also the key- 
lock. The key was in her pocketbook 
where she had put it after shutting 
Sarah in the kitchen. 

No sign of Sarah was to be seen. 

Myrtilla made another and more de- 
tailed search of the small kitchen. ^The 
window leading to the fire escape was 
bolted as it had been all day during her 
absence. 

But the dumb-waiter door was open 
and the dumb-waiter was at the bottom 
of the shaft! 



THE " V " FORCE. 



927' 



"The low, common thins!'" Myr- 
tilla said to herself, staring down into 
the blackness. 

In the queenly Elizabethan aura that 
enveloped Myrtilla a dtimb-waiter was 
a place only for tradesmen, janitors 
and sneak-thieves. 

Sarah had escaped without coat, hat 
or gloves; and it was a chill night. 

" A woman of her class is capable 
of anything," Myrtilla murmured half 
aloud, puzzled to fathom what sudden 
reason had impelled Sarah to flee. 

She had apparently confided in Myr- 



tiHa completely; and seemed as con- 
tent as it was possible to be in her 
refuge. 

The doorbell rang. Myrtilla awoke 
to the fact that she was keeping Pro- 
fessor Younglove and the taxicab 
waiting. 

" As you will. then. Sarah,'' Myr- 
tilla said, addressing the dumb-waiter 
shaft with dignity; "but you can't 
come back even if you would.'' 

Then, bolting the dumb-waiter door, 
Myrtilla hastened down-stairs to join 
Professor Younglove. 



(To be continued., 



orce 





Fred C. Smale 



i. 



S EXAMINED the bar of metal 
closely. 
Subsequent measurements 
showed it to be fourteen inches long, 
three inches wide, and three-quarters 
of an inch thick. On the broad sur- 
face, about the center, was engraved a 
circle with strokes radiating from it, 
possibly a conventionalized represen- 
tation of the sun. Beyond this no 
marks were visible. 

The metal itself, so far as I could 
judge, was a very hard steel with a 



curious ruddy iridescence on the sur- 
face, somewhat reminding me of the 
appearance of " shot " silk. When 
suspended between the fingers and 
thumb and struck sharply it rang with 
a clear bell-like note. Evidently there 
was no flaw in the metal. 

" Do you believe it? " I asked, look- 
ing up from my examination. 

Walter Surtees shrugged his shoul- 
ders. 

" Twenty years' residence in the 
East," said he. " have taught me to be- 
lieve many stranger things." 

" But this." I protested. " A mere 



928 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



bar of inanimate metal to have all the 
powers you ascribe — " 

" Excuse me," he corrected. " I 
don't ascribe any powers to it — at least 
you haven't heard me do so yet — I 
have merely retailed to you the state- 
ment made to me by the Tibetan 
priest who gave it to me." 

" Has it the ordinary magnetic 
properties? " said I. "But of course 
you have thought of that." 

Walter Surtees smiled. 

" Yes, I have tested it, ^ut it doesn't 
even lift iron-filings. Xo, it isn't a 
mere bar-magnet, whatever it is." 

" But that stuff about the ' periodic 
powers,' " said 1. " If there is any- 
thing in it at all it must be permanent. 
I am inclined to think the whole thing 
is a fable. I dare say those artful 
priests were able to play some curious 
tricks with it. It's their business." 

My friend looked queerly at me for 
a moment before he spoke. 

" Well, to be frank with you," said 
he, *' there is something supernormal 
about it. I haven't confined my ex- 
periments to poking it among iron- 
filings," 

" What else, then?" I asked curi- 
ously. 

"It shines in the dark, for one 
thing," he replied. 
I laughed. 

" Radium," I suggested. " Possibly 
it contains a minute quantity. But 
that wasn't what you were going to 
tell me. You would hardly call look- 
ing at it in the dark an experiment." 

Surtees rose and went to the door 
of the room. 

"You shall see for yourself," said 
he. 

He opened the door and whistled 
softly. Presently a huge, gray cat in- 
sinuated itself into the room and 
rubbed affectionately against my 
friend's leg. purring gently the while. 

•Surtees closed the door and re- 
turned to his chair. 

" Now watch," said he. 

The cat followed him for a yard or 
two, then it seemed to grow suddenly 



uneasy. Its fur rose and its tail be- 
came enlarged. 

In obedience to a sign from Surtees 
I placed the bar, which I was still hold- 
ing, on the floor. The cat watched it 
as though fascinated and mewed plain- 
lively. It now seemed more terrified 
than angry. 

Slowly, as though against its will, 
the animal drew nearer with a curious 
sidling movement until at last it lay 
close to the bar, motionless and appar- 
ently exhausted. 

" That is certainly queer," said I 
thoughtfully. I say," I added, look- 
ing up sharply, " you're not playing 
any hanky-panky tricks, old chap ? " 

Walter Surtees shook his head 
gravely. He was watching the cat. 

" There may be some odor clinging 
to it which we cannot ourselves de- 
tect," I suggested, " and which the cat 
can. and finds rather overpowering." 

" I never knew an odor to affect a 
cat or any other animal in that 
fashion," returned Surtees. " This 
morning it only fluffed up and swore 
at the thing. Xow it seems to be de- 
cidedly more impressed." 

He rose and lifted the cat gently. 
Then he started and examined the 
animal closely. 

" Why, it's dead! " he cried. 
" Dead! " I echoed. " Nonsense! " 
" Dead as mutton," repeated Sur- 
tees. " Luckily it is my own cat and 
not the landlady's. Poor brute! I 
was going to show you something else. 
The canary — " 

" Xo, thanks," said I. " We'll spare 
the canary, if you don't mind." 

After spending some time in futile 
examinations of both bar and poor 
pussy, we left the bar where I had 
placed it on the carpet and passed to 
some other of my friend's curios. 

But it was of no use. That infernal 
bar fascinated both of us. At last 
Surtees muttered something under his 
breath, and picking it up, replaced it 
carefully in a. leather case. 

. " You take good care of it," I re- 
marked. 



THE "V" FORCE. 



929 



" It may resent neglect,'' replied my 
friend lightly. 

" Look here, old chap," said I sud- 
denly, " if I were you I'd take an early 
train to Brighton or Southend and 
chuck that thing off the end of a pier 
— leather case and all." 

" 'I am waiting to see what will hap- 
pen," he returned in a curious dull 
tone. " I intend to see it out." 

" Is there nothing that will check its 
influence?" I suggested. "No anti- 
dote." 

" Nothing opaque to it. so to speak. 
I have thought of that. I tried lots of 
things this morning. Glass, electrified 
and normal — silk, water, shellac, a 
score or other things. I even borrowed 
an air-pump from the science school 
yonder and tried a vacuum. No use, 
any of it." 

" Didn't you learn anything of its 
nature from the man who gave it to 
you?" 

" He simply told me that he had 
taken it from the robe of a fellow 
priest, whom he found crushed to 
death/'' 

"Crushed to death! How?" 
Walter Surtees shrugged his shoul- 
ders. 

" Some sort of panic, I believe. 
There was a big crowd of fanatics at 
some shrine or other, and this man 
seemed to have got underfoot. The 
story was very vague." 

" And he had this thing on him," 
said I. musingly looking at the case on 
the table. 

Surtees nodded. 

I rose, and as I did so I swayed sud- 
denly. 

" Hold up — what's the matter — 
dizzy?" exclaimed Surtees. 

" It's that confounded juju of 
yours." I gasped, catching sight of a 
rather white face in the mirror. I 
pulled myself together and reached the 
door. 

" I've found a better name for it 
than that," said Walter Surtees. " The 
'V' force — the vital force, you 
know." 

14 S 



" We'll leave it at that," said I, feel- 
ing angry with myself and the mys- 
terious drawing power which I still 
felt, though less strongly. " Call it 
what you like, but I repeat my advice. 
Get rid of it or it may play cat-tricks 
with you, and I touched the dead ani- 
mal with my foot. 

Surtees seemed preoccupied and 
scarcely replied to my " Good night." 

1 went slowly down the stairs with 
an uneasy feeling that I was leaving 
him to face some unknown danger 
alone. I hesitated and half turned 
back. Then I heard the piano. Sur- 
tees was playing one of his favorite 
" Chants sans paroles." I laughed to 
myself. 

" -Music hath charms," I muttered. 
" It may soothe even a steel bar." 

Yet I could not shake off the mem- 
ory of that poor brute of a cat and the 
mysterious suddenness with which 
death had come to it. 

II. 

Two days afterward I was at Bex- 
hill on some business connected with 
property I had there. I found it nec- 
essary to stay the night, and as I was 
leaving my hotel for a stroll and last 
pipe before going to bed the boots 
handed me a telegram. It was from 
Surtees, forwarded to me from my 
town address. The message was brief 
but sufficiently disturbing. It ran : 

Conic to Pelham Street at once. 
Urgent. Suktf.es. 

Finding it would be impossible for 
me to reach Pelham Street until well 
after midnight, I hastily wrote a letter, 
explaining my sudden change of plan 
and left it for the man with whom I 
had an appointment in the morning. 

At first the matter of the bar did not 
occur to me, and, as Surtees was of 
rather an impulsive nature, I thought 
his desire to see me might have its 
origin in some legal bother connected 
with a certain troublesome brother of 
his, of whom I knew. 



930 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



It was a dark, foggy night when I 
arrived at Pelham Street, and the raw 
mist seemed to penetrate to my bones. 
There was a faint glow in the window 
of Surtees's sitting-room — not bright 
enough to indicate that he was up and 
about — but more as though a bright, 
clear fire had been left burning in the 
grate. Then I remembered that he 
used a gas-stove, and was momentarily 
puzzled. 

There seemed nothing to indicate 
impatience or anxiety on his part, and, 
as I had run out of tobacco, I decided 
to go on to the public-house at the 
corner — it was not yet midnight — and 
replenish my stock before seeing Sur- 
tees, who smoked a brand too potent 
for me. 

I strode on past the house with this 
intent, when suddenly my legs became 
leaden and I felt as though I were bat- 
tling against a strong head wind. Yet 
the murky stdlness of the atmosphere 
told me that such was not the case. I 
strove against the unseen power which 
was holding me back, but with each 
step it grew stronger. 

The street was deserted or my 
quaint struggles might have roused 
some doubts as to my sobriety. 

As I paused in bewilderment a 
ragged tramp came shuffling along. 
As he passed me he gave a curious 
growl and staggered against the wall. 
With odd inconsistency I muttered 
" Drunk ! " and, obeying an uncon- 
trollable impulse, I stepped back to the 
door of Surtees's lodgings and rang 
the bell. 

Getting no reply. I tried the door, 
found it unlocked, and, breathing 
slightly quicker than usual, I mounted 
the stairs and knocked at Surtees's 
door. 

" Who is there? " asked a low. muf- 
fled voice, which I nevertheless recog- 
nized as that of my friend, and I an- 
swered sharply. 

" Thank Heaven ! " said the voice. 
"Come in — but take care — take care!" 

I opened the door and beheld a 
strange scene. 



Surtees lay in a huddled position on 
the floor. Close to his face — within 
twelve inches — was the bar. It shone 
with a dull radiance, which filled the 
room, and by its light I saw that Sur- 
tees's eyes were fixed upon it and 
slightly crossed as in a hypnotic trance. 

As I stood momentarily in horrified 
surprise I became conscious of an al- 
most overwhelming desire 'to grovel 
on the floor also. Something seemed 
to draw me forward and downward 
with compelling force. Surtees spoke 
jerkily and as a man struggling breath- 
lessly with an opponent. 

"Thank Heaven — in time — I hope!" 
he gasped, while I grasped the door- 
lintel and listened. 

" Discovered — antidote ! " he went 
on after a moment. " Direct sunlight 
— even daylight — weakens — nights — 
powerful — stronger each night — My 
Lord ! " 

He broke off with a scream. 

"It — draws — life!" he moaned. 

lie had never turned his eyes to trie 
once all this time, and he now col- 
lapsed limply by the side of the ac- 
cursed bar. 

"Look — out!" he whispered. 

At first I thought he meant this 
simply as a warning to myself. Then 
his real meaning flashed upon me and, 
bracing myself up, I made determined- 
ly for the window. I reached it in a 
staggering, drunken fashion and, mov- 
ing the blind aside, peeped down into 
the street below, my head humming 
like a beehive the while. 

Three figures, including a police- 
man, were loitering with apparent 
aimlessness directly beneath. 

As I looked a stout man came 
hastening along. I caught sight of his 
purple, anxious face in the light of a 
lamp. When he came up he checked 
his pace abruptly and lurched aside. 
The policeman seized him and held 
him up. while the other two men 
seemed to look stupidly on. 

The sound of the constable's gruff 
voice came faintly to my ear. Now 
came a hansom, driven rapidly. Di- 



* 



THE "V" FORCE. 



rcctly beneath the horse reared up on 
its haunches. There were shouts and 
a crash of broken glass. The hansom 
had turned over. 

The street all at once seemed full of 
people and a woman's scream rang out 
shrilly. I dropped the blind and turned 
aside. 

"What does this mean?" I asked, 
and my voice shook. " Surely this, 
devilish thing — '* 

Surtees turned his bloodshot eyes 
on me with an effort. 

" I cannot check," he whispered 
hoarsely. " All — London — crushed — 
death ! Crowd — mob — panic ! " 

" What must we do? I cried. 

" Big risk—' 

I made a gesture of impatience, the 
movement turned to burlesque by the 
force which I felt dragging at every 
nerve and muscle. What could be 
worse than our present position? 

" We'll beat it somehow," I said. 

"Make — rush!" said Surtees faintly. 

I had unconsciously crept to his side, 
and we spoke in whispers. 

" What — how-?" I said vaguely. I 
felt a leaden dulness coming over me. 

Walter Surtees gave an odd, croak- 
ing laugh. 

"A chase!" 

" And if we cannot get away." 

"Remember — priest of Llassi!" 
was his reply. 

" Come, then," said I. " The sooner 
the better. I am the stronger — I'll 
take it." 

" No," whispered Surtees promptly. 

There was no time for argument. 

" Let us carry it together.'' said I. 
" Your right hand — my left." 

He nodded. 

" Glove," he muttered. 

I understood and drew off the thick 
glove from his left hand and placed 
it on my own. 

" Now," said T. 

" Ready ! " he muttered between 
clenched teeth. We stretched out our 
hands together. 

The bar seemed to leap toward us 
and there was a sound of impact as it 



931 

met our hands, as though it were 
welded to us. I shuddered. 

We leaped to our feet, a curious, 
sense of power tingling through our 
veins. The spell seemed to have been 
broken. 

Meanwhile, the sounds outside had 
risen to a roar, and the street was filled" 
by a seething, panic-stricken mob. 

III. 

" Thk back! " cried Surtees. 

We dashed from the room, holding 
the bar between us. Our strength 
seemed irresistible. We moved as one 
individual, and even our unspoken 
thoughts seemed in unison. 

We burst through the flimsy door 
leading to the back premises, carrying 
it clear off its hinges; and I afterward 
found that the jagged iron of one of 
these had caused a nasty gash in my 
shoulder. 

I felt nothing then. 

On we raced, through a yard and 
into a narrow lane. Then, without a 
word passing between us, we burst off 
like some cjuaint quadruped. For a 
few minutes we saw no one, then sud- 
denly we found ourselves in a main 
thoroughfare — the Edgeware Road, I 
think, but am not sure. 

It was now nearly one in the morn- 
ing and very few people were about ; 
but we were dimly conscious of curi- 
ous swervings on the part of those we 
did pass, and presently we heard the 
pattering of footsteps behind us. We 
kept to the center of the road, which 
at that hour presented few obstacles. 
We could not have dropped the bar 
now even had we desired to do so. 

Our pursuers seemed to be growing 
in numbers. They were horribly si- 
lent. There were no shouts — no cries 
to those ahead to stop us — only that 
fearsome patter of many feet behind. 

We dived down a side street which 
took us into an open space — Norfolk- 
Crescent, we found it to be afterward. 
It might have been the top of the mon- 
ument for all we knew then. Appar- 



932 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



ently our pursuers had received a 
check, hut, even as we paused a second, 
the head of the procession poured into 
the crescent. 

At the curb in front of one of the 
houses stood a motor-car — a long, low, 
gray machine. 

" Quick ! " panted Surtees hoarsely, 
speaking for the first time during our 
flight. 

We literally flew to the car. The 
chauffeur was dozing in furs. As we 
came up he lurched sidewise and fell 
almost at our feet. We scrambled 
over him into the car, and, while Sur- 
tees seized the steering-wheel with his 
free hand, I jerked back the starting- 
lever. 

Luckily, we both understood mo- 
tors. The vision of a wild-eyed man, 
clutching vainly at the back of the car, 
danced momentarily across my vision. 
I reached back to fling him off, and a 
sea of fierce, gibbering faces seemed to 
glide smoothly away. 

I looked round dazedly. We were 
on a broad road which appeared to 
stretch away into infinity. 

Surtees sat beside me, his jaw set 
like iron, and his eyes glowing like 
live coals under his knit brows. 

" Cannot we drop this infernal 
thing? It is like being handcuffed,*' 
said I. 

I had no need to raise my voice. 
The car was almost noiseless. 

" Try," said Surtees grimly. 

But my hand felt paralyzed. I real- 
ized that I had no power over it. But 
I was desperate. It seemed ridicu- 
lous that I should not be able to con- 
quer this mere piece of metal. 

Lowering the bar, of course with 
Surtees's hand- as well, I placed my 
foot upon it and we wrenched our 
bodies back suddenly. 

I groaned with pain. Half the flesh 
seemed torn from my hand — but we 
were free and our tyrant lay at the 
bottom of the car. 

" Shall I kick it out? " said I. 

" No— no ! " replied Surtees. " The 
sea!" 



I understood. He meant to give this 
thing effectual burial. 

I leaned back and laughed a little. 
I was just beginning to realize what 
we had done and were doing. 

" Where are we? " I asked. 

" Great Bath Road," he answered. 

" But the sea! " I exclaimed. " Why 
not the Norfolk or Sussex coast? " 

" I didn't stop to think it out," re- 
turned Surtees dryly. 

" Then we must go on — " 

"Until dawn." 

" And then—" 

" Relief and freedom," said Surtees, 
his eyes fixed on the road before him. 

The houses were thinning now and 
there were no lights. Fortunately 
those of the car were powerful. 

" Well, we are free now," said I, 
" if it comes to that." 

" Try to rise," was Surtees's com- 
ment; ''only don't fall out." 

I seized the side of the car and 
strove to raise myself from the seat. 
It was impossible and I sank back in 
renewed dismay. It was as though we 
were bound down by iron bands. 

" Sunlight the only antidote." My 
friend's words flashed through my 
brain. Truly, we must go on — until 
the dawn. 

" Is there petrol enough ? " I asked. 

Surtees shrugged his shoulders. 

" I hope so." 

" Where are we going? " 

" Devon or Cornwall. What is the 
time?" 

My watch had stopped, but just then 
we heard a bell somewhere give a soli- 
tary stroke. 

" One," said Surtee. " Sunrise half 
past six or thereabouts — over five 
hours." 

The effects of our violent exercise 
were passing off, and after binding up 
Surtees's wounded hand as well as my 
own I busied myself with hunting out 
the rugs which had been considerately 
left in the car. I found no goggles or 
vizors, and as the roads were in perfect 
condition, neither muddy nor dusty, we 
had no need of such. 



THE "V"- FORCE. 



933 



We had met very few vehicles. A 
belated four-wheeler or two and one 
other motor were all, and we were going 
at too great a speed for the bar to have 
any effect on those. 

When we overtook anything, how- 
ever, it was different. This only hap- 
pened once — between Slough and Maid- 
enhead. On a long stretch of road we 
rapidly overhauled the red light of an- 
other car, and as we came within thir- 
ty yards or so it suddenly slackened 
speed so that we almost dashed into it. 

We swerved aside and dashed hy. 
The other car seemed to leap at us 
and the occupants to tumble together 
of a heap. I set my teeth and held 
tight, but we just managed to clear 
them. Only our great speed saved them 
and us from what would no doubt have 
been a particularly complicated smash- 
up. 

ft must have been a very mystified 
party of motorists that we left behind, 
but we never learned that any one of 
them was hurt. Fortunately, through- 
out the whole of our journey the expe- 
rience was not repeated. 

I need not detail the entire course of 
that trying journey. We got no chance 
of bite or sup. 

Luckily the car held out, and the 
gray light of dawn overtook us on the 
/ north coast of Cornwall, where we 
drew up at last somewhere between 
Padstow and Newquay, near the edge 
of high cliffs directly overlooking the 
sea. 

Our red-rimmed eyes looked out 
from pallid, dust-begrimed faces over 
a slate-colored expanse of waters. We 
were cold and faint with hunger. 

With an effort I managed to drag 
myself from the car, but was for some 
minutes unable to stand. Natural stiff- 
ness seemed all we had to contend with 
now. True, our limbs seemed leaden 
and we lurched drunkenly against the 
side of the car : but presently we real- 
ized that the dread power of the bar 
was almost if not quite vanquished. 

What would not we have given for 
a flask of brandy or even hot coffee — 



tea — anything to ease our parched 
throats and warm our chilled blood ! 

Presently the ruddy rim of sun shot 
over the horizon to our right, and Sur- 
tees, staggering to the car, rolled back 
the rugs and seized the bar recklessly. 
He held it to the ruddy beams of the 
rising monarch which were struggling 
through the wintry morning mist. 

He gave a crazy, chuckling laugh. 
Then his face changed and a furious 
expression came over it. 

"Curse it!" he cried, and, turning 
seaward, he drew back his arm and 
flung the bar with all his strength far 
out over the dull-gray waters. 

We could not discern the tiny splash 
where it fell some twenty or thirty 
yards from the shore and in, as we aft- 
erward ascertained, about twenty-eight 
fathoms of water. 

We stood gazing dumbly for a mo- 
ment. Then we realized that we were 
at last rid of our ghastly incubus and 
we danced on the grassy sward like 
lunatics. 

" Sorry for the fish," said I. 

" Whatever the infernal thing can 
do," said Surtees, " it can't rise from 
the sea." 

We turned to the car and our eyes 
met. Surtees laughed rather grimly. 

" We are in for trouble," said he. 

" On the contrary, we are just rid of 
it," 1 returned lightly. " We have onlv 
to explain — " 

I paused, and Surtees laughed again. 

" Who will believe? " said he. " No 
— we must clear out. The machine is 
useless to us now. There is no petrol. 
We must leave it here." 

I stood doubtfully and was about to 
make some suggestion, I know not 
what, when a glance seaward drove 
the blood from mv face afresh. 

" Look— look ! " I cried. 

At the spot where the bar had sunk 
was a huge mound of water like a gi- 
gantic wave. The surface of it was 
white with foam, and though it was as 
yet in the shadow of the cliff I thought 
I could discern something writhing 
and leaping therefrom. 



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Walter Surtees and I gazed spell- 
bound. A sea-fog was rolling in rap- 
idly, growing denser every moment, 
and ere it blotted the great tossing wave 
from our view, I fancied I saw a terri- 
ble, scaly head arise from the turmoil 
— a hideous monster with wildly 
whirling tentacles and ghastly, wide- 
open eyes. 

Then the fog hid all. We lingered 
no longer, but turned and ran wildly, 
whither we knew not — anywhere away 
from that awful nightmare. 

We escaped all awkward inquiries 
more by luck than anything else. We 
found ourselves possessed of a few 
pounds in cash, enough to take us safely 
to Falmouth and thence to Jersey and 
France, where we lay perdu for a while, 
easily reenforcing our funds by means 
of letters to our bankers. 

The English newspapers were par- 
ticularly interesting to us during the 
next few days. 

We read how the Hon. Stockwood 
Ridgeway's motor-car had been found 
deserted on the Cornish cliffs; of the 
mysterious happenings in the neighbor- 
hood of Pelham Street, W., and of the 
no less inexplicable slaughter of fish 
near the coast where the car was found. 



some hundreds of tons being cast up on 
the neighboring ^Sfmds every tide for 
some weeks following; but a conve- 
nient theory of submarines accounted 
for the last named, and, curiously 
enough, the " riot," as it was termed, 
in Pelham Street, of which, after all, 
a few broken limbs were the worst re- 
sults, was never connected in any way 
by the press with the " hiring " of the 
car. 

I suppose our exit by the back door 
and dash down the lane broke the link 
which might have somewhat enlight- 
ened the public. Yet what more would 
they have learned? 

What do even Walter Surtees and I 
know, after all? Where is the accursed 
bar now? 

Walter Surtees suggests that some ill- 
advised saurian has swallowed it and 
borne it off to spread calamity in other 
climes when its periodic power shall 
return. 

I have sometimes wondered wheth- 
er this story may not contain a clue 
to the fatal and unaccountable devia- 
tions of ships from their correct 
courses when near the Cornish coasts. 

However, here my story ends, as far 
as I know it. 

I hope it may never have a sequel. 



ANIMAL EXISTENCE. 
By Percy Watts. 

THERE are a number of us creep 
Into this world, to eat and sleep; 
And know no reason why we're born, 
But only to consume the corn. 
Devour the cattle, fowl, and fish. 
And leave behind an empty dish. 
The crows and ravens do the same, 
Unlucky birds of hateful name; 
Ravens or crows might fill their places, 
And swallow corn and carcasses. 
Then if their tombstones, when they die, 
Be n't taught to flatter and to lie. 
There's nothing better 'twill be said 
Than that " they've eat up all their bread, 
Drunk up their drink, and gone to bed." 



er Forbidden 




Rex T. Stout 

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. 

LILA WILLIAMS, telegraph-operator at the Lamartine, New York City, is the 
object of devotion of a group of men called the " Erring Knights." They are — 
Dumain. a palmist and clairvoyant ; Tom Dougherty, an ex - prizefighter ; Rub 
Driscoll and Harry Jennings, actors ; Sam Booth, a typewriter salesman ; Billy Sher- 
man, a newspaperman, and John Knowlton, whose business is not clear. Lila falls in 
love with Knowlton, but the Erring Knights, egged on by Sherman, tell her she must 
have nothing to do with him, for they suspect that he is passing counterfeit money. She 
sticks to him. however, and Knowlton, impressed with her devotion, swears to himself 
to break away from his evil ways. Sherman, however, is bound to ruin him, and sets 
the law on his track. Lila learns of Knowlton's danger and flies to his apartment. 
Their interview is interrupted by a battering on the door and a demand to open In 
the name of the law. 

Knowlton is arrested. Lila, however, succeeds in disposing of the counterfeit 
monev which he happens to have on hand. She is shadowed by Sherman, who assumes 
that she is guilty, and thoroughly frightens her. From Sherman she is rescued by 
Dougherty and Dumain. When these latter realize how devoted she is to Knowlton 
they agree to get him out of jail and prevent his conviction. The Erring Knights pool 
their little cash, each individual taking fifty dollars, and seeking to make by gambling 
sufficient money to get legal talent for Knowlton. All lose except Dougherty, who at 
roulette makes three thousand five hundred dollars. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

ALL TOGETHER. 

WHEN Lila reached the lobby 
of the Lamartine at nine 
o'clock on the following 
morning she found the Erring Knights 
already assembled in their corner. 
For a moment she forgot everything 

Btp.ui August A 11 -Story 



else in her surprise: she had thought 
that nothing less than the end of the 
world could possibly have roused these 
gentlemen of leisure from their beds 
at so early an hour. 

Dougherty hastened over to her 
desk and demanded to know why she 
had left her room. 

" Why not?" Lila smiled. " I feel 

Magazine. Single copies, I 5 cents. 
935 



936 



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all right, really. And, anyway, I had 
rather be down here than up there 
alone. Did yon see him ? " 

The ex-prizefighter grunted an af- 
firmative and proceeded to give her a 
detailed account of his conversation 
with Knowlton on the previous morn- 
ing. He ended by saying that they 
had engaged a lawyer, and that the 
sinews of war in the sum of three 
thousand dollars had been entrusted to 
Dumain as treasurer. 

" But Mr. Dougherty," Lila ex- 
claimed, "we can't possibly use that! 
I thought — you see, I have saved a 
little — " 

Dougherty interrupted her: 

" Now see here. We're doing this, 
and you've got to let us alone. Any- 
way, it's not really costing us a cent. 
I won't explain how, but you can take 
my word for it. 

" Everything's all right, and you 
don't need to worry, and for Heaven's 
sake don't begin any of that stuff 
about you won't take this and you 
won't take that. If we're going to 
help you we've got to help you. What 
did you think I meant yesterday morn- 
ing — that I was going to carry a note 
to Knowlton and then go home and sit 
down with my fingers crossed?" 

Whereupon, giving her no time to 
answer. Dougherty turned and re- 
joined the others across the lobby. 

This was the beginning of a cam- 
paign which lasted a little over a 
month. 

The duties of the Erring Knights 
were varied and arduous. Each morn- 
ing one of them conducted Lila to the 
hotel, and took her home each eve- 
ning, this escort being necessitated by 
the fact that Sherman had twice ac- 
costed her on the street. He had also 
called at her home, but there was no 
necessity for a male guardian there. 
Mrs. Amanda Berry was a legion in 
herself. 

Dougherty was the official messen- 
ger between the Lamartine and the 
Tombs. At first Lila had insisted on 
going to see Knowlton herself, but he 



had begged her to spare him this final 
humiliation. 

The prisoner wrote: 

I long to see you; you know it; but 
it is enough to have the picture of this 
place imprinted on my own memory — 
J can't bear that you should see me 
here. 

Whatever your imagination shows 
you it cannot be as dreadful as the 
reality. If I obtain my freedom I shall 
not feel that I have cheated justice. 
Heaven knows I could not pay more 
dearly for my crime than 1 have al- 
ready paid. 

Knowlton stubbornly refused to al- 
low his lawyer to procure his release 
on bail. The lawyer said he was quix- 
otic; Dougherty used a stronger and 
commoner term, but they could not 
change his decision. He gave no rea- 
sons, but they understood; and the 
lawyer, who was at least as scrupulous 
as the average of his profession, de- 
clared to Dumain that for the first 
time in ten years' practise he was de- 
fending a guilty man with a clear con- 
science. 

As for the case itself, it appeared to 
be by no means simple. The fact that 
they had no knowledge of the evidence 
held by the prosecution made them un- 
easy, and they bent their efforts main- 
ly to attempts to discover its nature. 

There was no danger, they found, 
from Red Tim, who had got away 
safely the night before Knovvlton's ar- 
rest. And he was the qnly one of the 
gang whom Knowlton had ever seen 
or dealt with. 

The evidence which the lawyer 
feared most was that concerning any 
specific operations, and in relation to 
the wallet which Knowlton had missed 
the day following the fight in Du- 
main's rooms. Knowlton suspected 
Sherman, but thought it possible that 
he had lost it on the street. 

" Well," said the attorney, " the 
best we can say is that we're on our 
guard. We must keep our wits about 
us and fight it out in the court-room. 
We won't know much about what they 
know before the day of the trial. It's 



HER FORBIDDEN KNIGHT. 



937 



a fight in the dark for us; but remem- 
ber, they have to furnish the proof.*' 

Dougherty was openly optimistic. 
After winning a one to thirty-five shot 
on the number of Knowlton's cell — he 
had recited the tale to the prisoner 
with great gusto — he refused to be- 
lieve that their efforts could possibly 
culminate in anything short of glori- 
ous victory. 

"Think of it; just think of it,*' he 
would say to Knowlton in a tone 
which partook of awe. " He drew the 
blooming number out of his hat — that 
was the first shot. Then he plays it 
single, and wins — that was the second. 
Why, we can't lose. We'll beat 'em 
both ways from the middle.'' 

"Thanks, old man; I hope so," 
Knowlton would reply. 

Thus three weeks passed by and 
found them marking time, waiting for 
the day of the trial. Dougherty spent 
the better part of two days seeking for 
Sherman, but without success. They 
had heard nothing from him, save the 
times he had accosted Lila on the 
street, nor seen him since the morning 
in Lila's room. 

" He's surely round somewhere." 
said Dougherty to Dumain as they met 
in the lobby one morning. " In fact, 
I know he's in town, because he's still 
got that room on Thirty-Fourth Street. 
But I can't get in, and I can't get him 
either going or coming." 

The little Frenchman shrugged his 
shoulders and glanced across the lobby 
where Lila sat at her desk talking to a 
man who had just approached — prob- 
ably a customer. 

" Bah ! Let heem alone. So long as 
he ees not bother Mees Williams that 
ees all we want." 

" It's not all I want," said Dough- 
erty. " I want to punch his face, and 
I will. He's a low-down, dirty — " 

He was interrupted by a call : 

" Mr. Dumain! " 

The voice was Lila's. They turned. 
She was standing in front of her desk, 
her face very white, holding in her 
hand a sheet of printed paper. Du- 



main hurried over to her, gave one 
look at the paper which she thrust at 
him with a trembling hand, and called 
to Dougherty. 

The ex-prizefighter crossed the 
lobby : 

" What is it?" 

"Look!" Dumain held the paper 
before him. " A what you call eet — 
subpoena — for Mees Williams! Mori 
Dicn! Eet is all up! " 

" Shut up," growled Dougherty, ta- 
king the subpoena. " Do you want the 
whole lobby to know about it? You 
get excited too easy." 

"But what am I to do?" faltered 
Lila. 

" Be a sport. Don't let 'em floor 
you with a little thing like this. They 
want you for a witness, do they? It's 
a good job. I'd advise you to take it." 

Lila gazed at him, amazed at his 
levity concerning what appeared to her 
to be the destruction of all their plans. 

Dougherty read over the subpoena 
with a smile. 

" The fact is," said he. " that Via 
surprised they didn't spring this be- 
fore. I've expected it all the time. 

" Sherman knew all about your be- 
ing at Knowlton's rooms — he told me 
and Dumain — and what's more, he 
told us that he'd told the Secret Serv- 
ice about you. Now, why did they 
hold off so long? That's the only part 
I don't like." 

" But what am I to do?" Lila re- 
peated. 

" There's only one thing you can do 
— go on the stand." 

But Mr. Dougherty ! Don't you 
see? They will ask me about that 
night, and about the — the money. And 
he will be convicted." 

Dougherty appeared to be greatly 
surprised. 

" And how so ? Let 'em question 
you from now till doomsday and what 
will they find out? Simply that you 
went straight home from the hotel and 
spent the evening in your room read- 
ing ' Pilgrim's Progress.' The only 
one they'll have against you is Sher- 



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THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



man, and if a jury wouldn't rather be- 
lieve you than him I'm a liar." 

Still Lila did not understand. She 
protested : 

" But I didn't spend the evening in 
my room." 

" Don't you think 1 know it ? I'm 
talking - about evidence, not facts. As 
far as the jury's concerned you did." 

Lila gazed at him in horror. 

" Do you mean I'd have to lie.' " 

"Well, that's a pretty strong word," 
said Dougherty, " but you can call it 
that if you want to." 

"But I couldn't — I couldn't!" 

" You'll have to." 

Lila looked at him : 

" No. I know I couldn't. If I am 
a witness, and they ask me about — 
that evening, I couldn't tell them any- 
thing but the truth." 

It was the tone rather than the 
words that caused Dougherty to force 
back the protest that came to his lips 
and convinced him of its uselessness. 

Here was an obstacle, indeed ! And 
utterly unexpected. Dougherty was 
not up on feminine psychology, and he 
couldn't understand how a girl could 
do for a man what Lila had done on 
the night of Knowlton's arrest, and 
then refuse to lie for him. 

" Besides, it would be useless," Lila 
was saying. " I think it was Mr. Sher- 
man who saw me, but it may not have 
been. Some of the others may have 
seen me also. And now I remember: 
the man they left in the room did see 
me as I passed the door. He might 
not recognize me, but how can we 
know? And if he did — " 

•" All right," Dougherty interrupted; 
" then there's no use talking about it. 
We're in a he — we're in a mess; but 
we'll find a way out, somehow. Du- 
main, find Driscoll and Booth. I'll get 
Jennings. Leave it to us, Miss Will- 
iams. Don't you worry about that 
thing'' — pointing to the subpcena — 
" for a minute. Hurry up, Dumain ! " 

And ten minutes later the Erring 
Knights, five strong, were assembled in 
their corner, holding a council of war 



over this new and dangerous compli- 
cation. 

Booth was ready to throw up the 
sponge. 

"What's the use?" he demanded. 
" They've got him fifty ways from 
breakfast. And this thing finishes it. 
If Miss Williams goes on the stand and 
, tells what she knows, he doesn't stand 
a chance." 

" You don't say! " observed Dough- 
erty ironically. " What's the matter — 
cold feet? And what do you think 
we're here for? It's up to us to fix it 
so that she don't go on the stand." 

" Tell me one thing," said Driscoll. 
" Why haven't they arrested her? " 

'* Easy enough." This from Jen- 
nings. " Because if they did they 
couldn't force her to testify against 
Knowlton, and they couldn't force 
Knowlton to testify against her. They 
figure that one is better than none." 

"Come on, boys; talk business." 
Dougherty pulled Jennings down on 
the lounge and glared at Booth. " We 
have enough trouble as it is, without 
trying to figure out why we haven't got 
more." 

But their wits refused to work. No 
one had anything to suggest that was 
worth listening to. unless it was Dris- 
coll, who was strongly in faVor of 
avoiding the subpcena by the simple 
expedient of running away from it. 

" The trial is only four days off." 
said he. " Convey Miss Williams to 
some safe and sheltered spot till it's 
over, and let Knowlton join her there." 

" But then there'd be a warrant out 
for her for contempt," Jennings ob- 
jected. 

" Well, you can't have everything," 
retorted Driscoll. 

Dougherty told them to wait a mo- 
ment and crossed the lobby to Lila's 
desk. Soon he returned, shaking his 
head negatively. 

" She won't do it," he announced. 

" She's darned particular," growled 
Booth. " What mil she do ? " 

But the ex-prizefighter stood up for 
Lila : 



HER FORBIDDEN KNIGHT. 



939 



" No, you can't blame her. She 
looks at it different from us. We'll 
have to think up something else." 

There was a silence. Driscoll light- 
ed a cigarette, offering one to each of 
the others, and soon the corner was 
decorated with spirals of smoke. Fi- 
nally Dumain spoke, for the first time. 

" I tell you," said he, " as soon as 
you feenish this foolishness, what I 
will do. You know nozzing. I weel 
ask Siegel." 

" And what can he do ? " demanded 
Driscoll. " He'll want to fix up an 
alibi for her, and she won't stand for 
it, and then he'll try to bully her." 

But the others signified their ap- 
proval of Dumain's suggestion, es- 
pecially Dougherty, and the little 
Frenchman was soon on his way down- 
town to the attorney's office, while 
Dougherty left for his daily visit to the 
Tombs. 

Driscoll strolled over to Lila's desk 
and told her that Dumain had gone to 
consult their lawyer. 

" But he cannot help us," she fal- 
tered. " There is nothing I can do, is 
there, Mr. Driscoll? Tell me." 

" You can keep up your courage," 
returned the young man. " As Tom 
would say, be a sport. And this Siegel 
is a shrewd man; he'll get us through 
safely, never fear. Dumain ought to 
be back before noon." 

But Lila was completely terrified, 
and refused to be reassured. The for- 
mal phraseology of the subpoena had 
impressed her with the power of the 
law; it seemed to her to smell of courts 
and prisons; and her woman's mind 
was affected more by the document it- 
self than by the very real danger it 
threatened. 

Throughout the remainder of the 
morning she sat with her eyes glued 
on the entrance to the lobby. At eleven 
o'clock Dougherty returned from the 
Tombs with a note from Knowlton, 
but an hour later the little Frenchman 
had not arrived. Lila put on her hat 
and coat to go to lunch with a heavy 
heart. 



The day was one of brilliant sun- 
shine, with a saucy, freshening breeze 
coming in from the bay. Lila ate little 
and hurriedly, then strolled along the 
walks of Madison Square. 

The grass plots were beginning to 
turn green, and the trees were covered 
with brown, damp buds, and in the cen- 
ter of the square a gardener was ra- 
king the newly turned earth. The 
gladness of the approaching spring was 
in the air. 

Lila found it intolerable. She re- 
turned to the Lamartine. 

Dumain rushed to meet her as she 
entered the door. 

" Mees Williams ! I've been waiting 
for you. Such a plan ! Zat lawyer ees 
a genius ! " 

The lobby was accustomed to Du- 
main, and paid little attention to his 
gesticulations and shrill, high-pitched 
tones ; but Lila flushed with embarrass- 
ment as they walked to her desk. She 
felt that every one was in her secret, 
wherein she was unjust to the loyalty 
and discretion of the Erring Knights. 

But this was nothing to the deep, 
rich crimson that flooded her cheeks as 
the little Frenchman, in low, excited 
tones, unfolded to her the plan of 
Lawyer Siegel. And with it came a 
smile, curiously tender, as Dumain ex- 
pressed a doubt as to her willingness to 
act upon it. 

He finished : 

" You see, he don't know if you will 
do eet, and I am to telephone heem at 
one o'clock; so eef he must — " 

" But I will," said Lila. " Oh, I 
will ! But are you sure I won't have 
to testify? Are you sure?" 

" Positeevely." 

"Then — couldn't we do it to-day 
instead of to-morrow? " 

" No," Dumain smiled. " Eet weel 
take till to-morrow morning to get zee 
bail for Knowlton. Dougherty ees 
down to see heem now. To-morrow 
afternoon eet will be — remember. I 
must go to see Siegel for zee bonds- 
man." 

And he trotted off, leaving Lila with 



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THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



face still flushed and the shadow of a 
doubt in her eyes, but with her lips 
parted in a trembling, wistful smile. 

But the plan of Lawyer Siegel, clever 
and effective as it was, nearly caused a 
disruption in the ranks of the Erring 
Knights. 

For Dumain and Dougherty alone 
were in the secret, which they refused 
to divulge; and the three others strenu- 
ously objected. Booth and Jennings 
threatened, half in earnest, to go over 
to the prosecution and tell all they 
knew, while Driscoll made many point- 
ed and cutting remarks concerning the 
source of the money they were using. 
But the little Frenchman and the ex- 
prizefighter were as adamant. 

" It's Miss Williams's secret."' said 
they, " and it wouldn't be fair to her 
to tell it. The fact is. she asked us 
not to." 

This last was not true, but Dougher- 
ty knew they wouldn't ask Lila. 

" And all we're good for, 1 suppose, 
is to sit round with our hands in our 
pockets," said Driscoll bitterly. This 
was on the day after the plan had been 
consummated. *' You get Knowlton 
out on bail and don't show up in the 
lobby for a day at a time, and when 
you come back expect us to clap you on 
the back and tell you how well we like 
you. It's not a square deal." 

" Xow. listen here," said Dougherty; 
" don't be a sore-head. The trial is 
day after to-morrow; can't you wait 
that long? Besides, you fellows have 
had your share. You've been bringing 
her to work every morning and taking 
her home every evening, and, believe 
me, that's some job. 

" And here's another. If Knowlton 
&ets out — and he will — there's going to 
lie a little dinner for him and Lila in 
Dumain's rooms Friday evening. The 
trial can't last more than one day. 
We'll leave that dinner to you and 
Booth and Jennings. When Dumain 
comes in this afternoon he'll give you 
the keys to his flat and all the money 
you need. Go as far as you like." 

" For how many? " 



" Seven. Us five and them two." 

Driscoll grunted, and departed to 
consult with Booth and Jennings. 

On Thursday evening, the day be- 
fore the trial. Miss Williams was es- 
corted to her home by Dougherty him- 
self. She was depressed and nervous, 
and his repeated attempts to rally her 
spirits were unsuccessful. They dined 
at a little restaurant on Columbus 
Avenue, and from there walked to One 
Hundred and Fourth Street. 

" Brace up," said Dougherty, as they 
stopped at her door. " This time to- 
morrow night you'll be ready to start 
on your honeymoon. Don't you like 
the idea? " 

" W hat do you think he is doing 
now? " asked Lila. with apparent irrel- 
evance. She had learned to talk to 
Dougherty^ as to a chum. 

" Reading your letters." said the ex- 
prizefighter with conviction. " He al- 
ways is. And now you go up and get 
to bed and sleep. None of this endless 
night business." 

Lila was standing in the open door. 

'* I'll try," she promised, smiling. 
" Good night, and thank you. I'll be 
waiting for you in the morning." 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE TRIAL. 

" May it please your honor. Mr. 
Foreman, and gentlemen of the 
jury — " 

The speaker was a United States 
assistant district attorney ; the scene, a 
Federal court-room in the Post-Office 
Building on Park Row. John Knowl- 
ton. alleged counterfeiter, was on trial 
before twelve of his peers. 

The room was old and dingy — the 
building itself has been called the ug- 
liest in New York. The jury-box. the 
benches, the railings, were blackened 
by time and use ; the clerk appeared to 
have been fastened to his desk for many 
years. A dreary, melancholy room. 

The spectators' benches are by no 
means filled ; most of the faces are 



HER FORBIDDEN KNIGHT. 



941 



familiar ones. In a group at the right 
are Detective Barretf and his two men, 
with Billy Sherman. Seated side by 
side on the front row of benches are 
Driscoll, Booth, Dnmain, Jennings, and 
Dougherty. Toward the rear of the 
room Lila is seen, and by her side — 
Mrs. Amanda Berry! There are some 
dozen others — hangers-on, sensation- 
seekers, and young lawyers. 

Knowlton, who was seated by the 
side of his attorney and engaged in 
a whispered consultation with him, 
looked up quickly as the prosecuting 
attorney rose to address the court and 
jury. The clock on the wall pointed to 
half past eleven; ninety minutes had 
sufficed for the preliminaries, including 
the selection of the jury. Lawyer 
Siegel had proven extraordinarily easy 
to please, thereby earning the gratitude 
of the judge. 

" May it please your honor, Mr. 
Foreman, and gentlemen of the jury — " 

The assistant district attorney pro- 
ceeded with his opening speech. He 
was a young fellow — perhaps eight and 
twenty — and he spoke with the earnest 
enthusiasm of youth, with forceful, 
sounding phrases. 

The prisoner felt his cheeks burn 
more than once at their sting. He 
wound up with the assertion that he 
would produce sufficient evidence to 
convict ten times over. 

Lawyer Siegel turned and whispered 
to his client : 

" He didn't let anything out — he's a 
slick one." 

Before Knowlton could do more 
than nod in response Siegel had risen 
to his feet and begun the opening 
speech for the defense. It was surpri- 
singly short; it entered not at all into 
details, or even the nature of his evi- 
dence, and amounted, in fact, to little 
more than a general denial. But as he 
stated that the accused would not be 
called to the stand in his own defense 
Knowlton perceived a swift, almost im- 
perceptible, expression of doubt and 
disapproval flit across the faces of the 
jurors. 



As Siegel sat down the prisoner 
turned for a fleeting glance at Lila ; she 
smiled at him brightly. 

The prosecuting attorney called his 
first witness : 

" James Barrett! " 

The detective had little to tell. He 
identified Knowlton and gave an ac- 
count of his arrest, dwelling pointedly 
on his flight to the rear of the flat as 
they entered. 

Siegel. for the defense, did not cross- 
examine. 

The second witness for the prosecu- 
tion was Billy Sherman. 
" What is your name? " 
" William Sherman." 
" Your business? " 
" Tournalist." 
" Your address ? " 

He gave a number on West Thirty- 
Fourth Street. 

There followed some questions con- 
cerning the length of Sherman's ac- 
quaintance with the prisoner and the 
amount of time he had spent in his 
company ; then the prosecuting attorney 
asked : 

" Did you ever see Knowlton pass, 
or offer to pass, counterfeit money?" 

Instantly Siegel was on his feet with 
an objection. 

" Sustained," said the judge. 

This was the beginning of a battle 
royal between the two lawyers. Time 
and again the prosecuting attorney tried 
to make his point, approaching it from 
every possible angle : and time and again 
Siegel objected that the witness was 
incompetent to answer. 

Finally the judge himself became im- 
patient and addressed the assistant dis- 
trict attorney with some severity: 

" Mr. Brant, this witness has not 
qualified as an expert. You must give 
up this line of questioning or dismiss 
him." 

Siegel seated himself with a tri- 
umphant smile. The prosecuting at- 
torney frowned and cleared his throat. 
Knowlton cast a glance over his shoul- 
der at the spectators' benches and sent 
a smile to Lila. 



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Dougherty leaned over and whispered 
to Driscoll : 

" I don't know what the deuce they're 
talking about, but that cagey little guy 
looks like he'd just stopped a swing 
on the jaw and was hanging over the 
ropes." 

But young Mr. Brant had another 
cartridge in his belt. He asked that an 
exception be noted on the ruling of the 
court, then turned to the witness : 

" Mr. Sherman, where were you on 
the evening of the iith of December 
last?" 

" At the rooms of Pierre Dumain, a 
palmist." 

" Where are those rooms? " 

" In West Twentv-First Street." 

" What is the number?" 

" I don't know." 

" Who was there with you? " 

" The defendant, Knowlton, and four 
or five others." 

" What are the names of the oth- 
ers?" 

" Tom Dougherty, Pierre Dumain. 
Bub Driscoll, Sam Booth, and Harry 
Jennings." 

" What were you doing there? " 

The witness hesitated a moment be- 
fore he answered : 

" Having a fight. You see — " 

"No; answer my questions," inter- 
rupted the lawver. " Were you fight- 
ing?" 

" No. sir." 

" Who was?" 

" Knowlton and Driscoll. Knowlton 
knocked him out." 
" And then ? " 

" Then Knowlton and Dougherty 
fought. It lasted ten or fifteen minutes 
and—" 

" Now tell the court and the jury 
exactly what happened." 

" Well. Knowlton was getting the 
better of Dougherty and had him up 
against the wall, when all of a sudden 
somebody threw a piece of bronze or 
something at Knowlton and hit him on 
the head. He dropped like a shot." 

" Then what did you do? " 

" I ran over toward the door, where 



Knowlton was lying on the floor, and 
so did the others* As I was standing 
near him I saw a wallet sticking out 
of his hip-pocket, and I knew they — " 

" You mean Knowlton's pocket ? " 

" Yes. And I was afraid one of the 
guys might take it. so I stooped down 
when no one was looking and pulled 
it out of his pocket — it was nearly out 
already — and put it in my own, think- 
ing to keep it for him. Dumain had 
sent somebody — " 

Mr. Brand interrupted. 

" Never mind the others. What did 
you do?" 

" I waited till the doctor came, and 
when he said Knowltpn's injury was 
not serious I went home. I believe 
Knowlton stayed at Dumain's rooms all 
night. When I got home I put his 
wallet away — " 

" Why didn't you return it to him 
before you left Dumain's rooms?" 

" Because lie was still half uncon- 
scious. He was in no condition to talk- 
to. Then the next afternoon, I think 
it was — " 

" Aren't you sure ? " 

" Yes." said the witness, after a mo- 
ment's hesitation, " it was the next aft- 
ernoon. . I took the wallet out of the 
drawer where I had put it away, think- 
ing to take it round to Knowlton's 
rooms, and as I put it in my pocket 
I happened to look into it, just out of 
curiosity, and I nearly fell over when 
1 saw it was full of counterfeit — " 

Lawyer Siegel sprang to his feet : 

" I object, on the ground that the 
witness is incompetent." 

" Sustained." said the judge. 

" Exception," said Mr. Brant. 

The judge turned to the witness : 

" Confine yourself to a recital of your 
own actions." 

" Did you return the wallet to 
Knowlton ? " asked the prosecuting at- 
torney. 

Sherman answered : " No. sir." 

" What did you do with it? " 

" I kept it a while, then I took it to 
Detective Barrett, of the secret serv- 
ice." 



HER FORBIDDEN KNIGHT. 



943 



The prosecuting attorney took some- 
thing from a leather case on the desk 
before him and, handing it to the wit- 
ness, asked : 

" Do you recognize that? " 

" Yes,'" said Sherman. " It's the 
wallet I've been talking about.*' 

" Is it the one you took from Knowl- 
ton's pocket? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Inspect the contents. Are they the 
same as when you first saw it? " 

There was a pause while the witness 
examined each of the compartments of 
the wallet, then he answered : 

" Yes. sir." 

" Everything the same? " 
" Yes, sir." 

Mr. Brant stepped forward and took 
the wallet from Sherman and handed 
it to the clerk of the court : 

" Your honor," said he, " I wish to 
introduce this wallet as evidence, with 
its contents. I shall call an expert later 
to prove that they are counterfeit." 

This was a blow to the defense 
which, though not entirely unexpected, 
appeared to be serious. The Erring 
Knights looked gloomily at each other, 
but forbore to speak. 

Lila was scarcely breathing in the 
intensity of her anxiety, while Mrs. 
Berry patted her hand soothingly. The 
accused was whispering excitedly to his 
attorney, who listened with keen inter- 
est, nodding his head with satisfaction 
at intervals. The result of this confer- 
ence was to appear later. 

The prosecuting attorney asked his 
witness a few more questions, for the 
most part unimportant, then turned 
him over for cross-examination. 

Lawyer Siegel rose to his feet. He 
had not an impressive appearance, but 
as he stepped directly in front of Sher- 
man he shot at him a glance so severe 
and terrifying that the witness invol- 
untarily recoiled. 

The tone was no less severe : 

" How long did you keep this wallet 
before you turned it over to Detective 
Barrett? " 

Sherman's answer was low: 



" About two months." 
" Why?" 

But Mr. Brant objected to the ques- 
tion, and was sustained. 
Siegel resumed : 

" You say somebody hit Knowlton 
on the head with ' a piece of bronze or 
something.' Who was it that threw 
that bronze ? " 

The witness was silent. 

"Who was it?" repeated the law- 
yer. 

Sherman stammered : 
" I did." 

" I see. Had you been fighting with 
him?" 
" No." 

The attorney was shouting his ques- 
tions with great rapidity, giving the 
witness barely time to answer, and no 
time at all to think. Sherman was 
nervously grasping the arm of his 
chair. 

" Were you standing very close to 
Knowlton when you threw the bronze 
at him? " - 

" No, sir." 

" Across the room, weren't you ? " 
" Yes, sir." 

" And as soon as he fell Dumain and 
Dougherty ran over and knelt down by 
Kim, didn't thev? " 

" Yes, sir." ' 

" And Jennings stopped you when 
you started to leave the room, didn't 
he?" 

" Yes. sir." 

The questions were coming like the 
rattle of a Gatling-gun. 

" And he forced you back to the 
corner ? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Then he went to help the others 
with Knowlton? " 
" Yes, sir." 

" You were over in the opposite cor- 
ner alone ? " 
" Yes, sir." 

" And when you found the wallet, 
was it in the coat or the vest? " 
" The coat." 
" Which pocket?" 
" The insi — " Sherman began ; then, 



944 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



realizing suddenly what he was saying, 
slopped short with a look of horror. 
He was trapped. 

The reason for his previous story of 
having taken the wallet from Knowl- 
ton's hip-pocket as he lay on the floor 
could be found only in the tortuous 
channels of Sherman's treacherous 
brain. 

Undoubtedly, he had thought to 
make his evidence stronger by making 
it appear that the thing had actually 
been taken from the person of the ac- 
cused, anu had anticipated the diffi- 
culty of proving that the coat was 
Knowlton's. And now he was fairly 
caught. 

Siegel pursued his advantage relent- 
lessly. He hammered the witness with 
questions, and Sherman stammered and 
grew red in the face with helpless an- 
ger, and finally admitted that his first 
story had been false. That was all 
Siqgel wanted; he sat down with a 
smile of triumph; his forehead was 
covered with beads of sweat. 

On redirect examination the prose- 
cuting attorney made a valiant attempt 
to bring his witness out of the hole he 
had digged for himself, but in vain. 
Sherman was hopelessly confused; he 
made matters worse instead of better, 
and ended by refusing to answer at all. 
He was dismissed by the court with a 
reprimand, and at a sign from Mr. 
Brant seated himself on the front row 
of benches. 

For a few moments the progress of 
the trial was halted by a conference 
between the prosecuting attorney and 
Detective Barrett, while Knowlton 
whispered animatedly to his counsel 
and the faces of the Erring Knights 
beamed with joy. 

What did I tell you? " said Dough- 
erty to Driscoll sotto vote. " Didn't I 
say he was a slick guy? " 

Then the prosecuting attorney turned 
to face the court-room : 

" Miss Williams, please take the 
stand.'' 

There was a silence. No one moved. 
Knowlton kept his eyes fastened on the 



desk before him. Three of the Erring 
Knights glanced accusingly at the other 
two. 

Mr. Brant, whose temper had not 
been improved by the discrediting of 
Sherman's testimony, looked directly 
at Lila. who had remained in her seat, 
and repeated his question. 

Will yon please take the stand ? " 

Lila rose and faced him. 

" Do you mean me? " she asked. 
Yes. I called your name. Take 
the stand." 

Lila did not move. 

" I beg your pardon, but you did not 
call my name." 

" Aren't you Miss Williams?" said 
Mr. Brant testily. 

Lila answered clearlv : 

" No," 

The attorney started with incredu- 
lous surprise. Driscoll, Booth, and 
Jennings looked round at her in amaze- 
ment, while Dougherty and Dumain 
smiled in their superior knowledge. 
Knowlton did not move. 

Sherman sprang from his seat and. 
crossing to the side of Attorney Brant, 
whispered excitedly : 

" That's her, all right. They're up 
to some trick. Call her up. She won't 
lie on the stand." 

But Mr. Brant shook him off, and 
after a moment's hesitation again 
spoke to Lila : • 

" Then what is your name? " 

Lila sent a single fleeting glance to 
the prisoner, who had turned in his 
chair to face her; then looked directly 
at the questioner. Her answer was 
low, but distinct and half triumphant: 

'• Mrs. John Knowlton." 

Then she sat down and buried her 
face in her hands; and, as everybody 
stared at her in consternation, sur- 
prise, or wonder. Lawyer Siegel rose 
to his feet and addressed the listening 
judge : 

" Your honor, this woman is the 
wife of the accused; and, therefore, 
may not be called as a witness by the 
prosecution. Your honor sees that she 
is in distress. May I ask that counsel 



HER FORBIDDEN KNIGHT. 



945 



be instructed not to question her fur- 
ther in court ? " 

But Mr. Brant turned on him an- 
grily : 

""Your proof! Show us your 
proof ! " 

" Of course." said the other, taking 
a paper from his portfolio, " I expect- 
ed you would demand it; I do not ex- 
pect courtesy from you, sir." He 
handed the paper to the judge. " That 
is the marriage certificate, your honor." 

There was a breathless silence 
throughout the room while the judge 
adjusted his eye-glasses and inspected 
the large, stamped document. He 
looked at the date and the signatures, 
and glanced at Attorney Siegel search- 
ingly ; then turned to Lila and asked 
her to step to the witness-stand. 

" I object, your honor — " began 
Lawyer Siegel, but the judge stopped 
him with a gesture. 

Lila was in the witness-chair. The 
clerk of the court administered the 
oath. The judge turned to her. 

" Are you the ' Lila Williams ' men- 
tioned in this certificate?" 

Lila barely glanced at it before an- 
swering : 

'* \ r es, sir." 

" Are you the wife of the accused, 
John Knowlton ?, " 
" Yes, sir." 

" Do you wish to testify for the peo- 
ple in this action ? " 
" Y'es, sir." 

" That is all," said the judge; "you 
may go." 

Then, as Lila glanced at him grate- 
fully and rose to return to her seat, he 
handed the certificate back to Lawyer 
Siegel and turned to speak to the pros- 
ecuting attorney with judicial calm- 
ness : 

" Call your next witness, Mr. Brant." 

But the trial had become a farce; a 
huge joke — on the prosecution. Of 
his two chief witnesses, one had been 
discredited and the other disqualified; 
and Attorney Brant stammered in an- 
gry confusion that he had no others. 

lie recalled Sherman to the stand 

15 s 



to give a recital of Lila's movements, 
as observed by him. on the evening of 
Knowlton's arrest; but Sherman could 
tell little, and it was easy to perceive 
by the expression on the faces of the 
jurors that the little he could tell was 
not believed. \ 

Mr. Brant also called an expert, who 
testified that the bills in the wallet in 
evidence for the prosecution were 
counterfeit; then the prosecution 
rested. 

The defense rested without calling 
a witness. 

Then came the closing speeches. 

Young Mr. Brant stammered and 
hesitated for a quarter of an hour, and, 
considering the paucity of his material, 
made a very creditable effort: but it 
was thrown completely in the shade by 
that of Lawyer Siegel, which may be 
given in full : 

" May it please your honor, Mr. 
Foreman, and gentlemen of the jury: 
Without any desire to be flippant, I can 
only state that since I am confined to 
the evidence, and since there has been 
no evidence worth speaking of, I have 
nothing to say." 

.And five minutes later, without leav- 
ing their box, the jury returned a 
verdict of " Not guilty." and John 
Knowlton was a free man. 

It was Lila who reached his side 
first, but the Erring Knights were not 
far behind ; and Knowlton found him- 
self the center of an excited, laughing 
group of faces filled with good-will and 
friendship and — one of them — with 
love. 

In one of his hands he held both of 
Lila's. and gave the other to each of 
the Erring Knights in turn; but his 
lips were silent. Before all these faces, 
at that moment, he could not trust him- 
self to speak. 

*' But I was so frightened." Lila was 
saying. " Oh. I was so frightened ! " 

"Bah!" said Dnmain. "At what, 
madam ? " 

Lila's cheek flushed at the title, and 
Driscoll, observing it, put in mischiev- 
ously : 



946 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



"-Yes; that really isn't very compli- 
mentary to us, Mrs. Knowlton." 

" Oh ! " said Lila helplessly, while 
the hush deepened. 

" And now," said Dougherty, 
" where's that guy, Siegel? I want to 
ask him to come up to the dinner to- 
night. I wonder where — What? 
Look at that ! " 

He was pointing excitedly across the 
room. The others turned and saw Billy 
Sherman being escorted to the door of 
the court-room by two police officers in 
uniform. 

" Probably some of his friends,"' ol> 
served Booth. 

" No," said Driscoll; " it's more like- 
ly that little slip-up in his testimony. 
1 believe they call it perjury." 

At that moment Siegel approached 
the group. 

" Come on," he called gaily; " they're 
going to clear the room. And I guess 
we'll be glad enough to go, since we 
don't have to leave any one behind. 
And, by the way. did you notice our 
friend. Sherman? He seems to be 
having a little trouble of his own. They 
just arrested him." 

" What is it? " asked Booth. " Per- 
jury? Thev certainlv didn't lose much 
time." 

" No. It isn't that. That was mere- 
ly a lapse of memory. They came from 
the outside. I didn't hear what they 
said, but from the expression of Mr. 
Sherman's face I wouldn't be surprised 
if it was murder. We caught him pret- 
tily, didn't we ? " 

They had left the court-room and 
Avere standing at the head of the stairs 
in the corridor. 

'• Well, let's forget him," said Dris- 
coll. " He was bound to hang himself 
sooner or later. Maybe he's done it al- 
ready. Come on — everybody." 

They moved down the stairs and out 
to the sidewalk, chattering and laugh- 
ing, still nervous and ill at ease from 
the restraint and anxiety of the court- 
room. 

Lined up along the curb were three 
big gray limousines. 



" Now," s'aid Dougherty, stopping 
in front of them, in the tone of a 
general marshaling his forces, " here's 
where we separate." 

He pointed to the first of the limou- 
sines. " Dnmain, you take this car with 
Knowlton and take him to your rooms. 
He'll find there what he needs. 

" Can't help it, Mrs. Knowlton; it's 
only for an hour or two. Driscoll, you 
are to take Mrs. Knowlton to One 
Hundred and Fourth Street, and get 
her trunk and bags. The rest of you 
come with me. And remember : six 
o'clock at Dumain's rooms. No later. 
Come on, boys ! " 

" But what — " Knowlton began. 

" Listen here," Dougherty interrupt- 
ed sternly; " are you going to obey or- 
ders or not? Hereafter Mrs. Knowl- 
ton can boss you. It's our turn to-day." 

In pretended fright Knowlton turned 
to Lila and bade her an rcvoir with a 
pressure of the hand, then sprang into 
the automobile beside Dnmain. 

" That's right," said Dougherty. 
" Here you go. Mrs. Knowlton. Help 
the lady in, Driscoll. Come on, Siegel, 
with us. What's that? Yes, you will 
— come on ! All ready, boys ? Let 'er 
go! So-long! Remember, six o'clock! " 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

WESTWARD 110 ! 

Eight gilt chairs with embroidered 
seats and backs surrounding a table 
covered with snowy linen and shining 
silver; four diminutive Swiss waiters 
with quick eyes and silent feet; roses 
everywhere — on the mantel, in vases on 
the table, clustered over the door, red 
and white; candles — hundreds of them 
— placed wherever there was an inch 
of space to hold them; such was the 
scene prepared by Bub Driscoll and his 
aids for the joy dinner in honor of Mr. 
and Mrs. John Knowlton, in that apart- 
ment on West Twenty-First Street 
which we have seen twice before. 

Lila was escorted to the dining-room 
on the arm of Lawyer Siegel, after 



HER FORBIDDEN KNIGHT. 



947 



an extended and heated controversy 
among the Erring Knights as to which 
of them should have that honor. 

When it appeared that the matter 
was apt to be argued till the dinner 
was ruined, Siegel stepped in and set- 
tled the question by offering his serv- 
ices, which were gladly accepted. 

Pierre Dumain, as host, sat at one 
end of the table ; Knowlton at the other. 
On one side was Lila, between Dough- 
erty and Driscoll; opposite them Booth, 
Jennings, and Siegel. 

" What a shame! " said Lila. " I'm 
so excited I can't eat.'' 

Driscoll observed : 

'* Now. that's just like a woman. 
For two months you've been as cool 
and collected as a cake of ice. while 
you've had enough trouble to scare an 
army; and now that everything's over, 
and you're just at the beginning of a 
lifelong siege of matrimonial boredom, 
you're so excited you can't eat ! " 

" I never did a harder day's work in 
my life," declared Dougherty. '* and 
I'm hungry like a bear. What do you 
call this, Driscoll? I'm no bridegroom 
— I can't eat roses." 

But he was promptly squelched by 
the master of ceremonies, and every- 
body talked at once till the soup arrived. 

Never was gayer company. Lila was 
at first a little embarrassed at finding 
herself the eighth at a table with seven 
men, but that did not last long; no 
longer, in fact, than when Dougherty, 
at the finish of the fish, arose to his feet 
to give an imitation of Miss Hughes 
chewing gum. powdering her face, and 
waiting on three customers at the same 
time. 

" She never did, - ' declared Lila. 
when she could speak for laughing. 
" That's a slander, Mr. Dougherty." 

"What?" exclaimed the ex-prize- 
fighter. " I'll admit it's not true to 
life; it's too delicate and refined. Not 
that I don't like her; the Venus is a 
good sport. And if there's anv — 
What's this? " 

" Sweetbreads in tambo shell, 
.visicii'," murmured the waiter. 



After which Dougherty was silent— - 
and busy — for ten minutes. 

Then Lawyer Siegel related some of 
his court experiences, both humorous 
and tragical, and Dumain described 
the mysteries and secrets of the gentle 
art of reading palms, and Jennings ex- 
plained that his contract with Mr. 
Frohman would probably not be signed 
till the following day, and Dougherty 
described his first prizefight with an 
animation and picturesqueness of lan- 
guage that left the others in a condition 
bordering on hysteria. 

" There's one thing," said Driscoll, 
turning to Lila, " for which 1 shall 
never forgive you — that you didn't 
invite me to the wedding." 

'* Here, too," put in Jennings. " I 
call it snobbish." 

"Where was it. anyway?" Booth 
wanted to know. " How did you 
manage it? " 

Dougherty explained : 

" Easy. You know we got Knowl- 
ton out on bail for one day. Well, he 
got a license and I got a preacher, and 
Dumain let us use his French parlor, 
and stuff was all off in fifteen minutes, 
But you may get to see a wedding, after 
all." 

Dougherty glanced at Knowlton. 
Knowlton nodded. Then the ex-prize- 
fighter continued : 

" We all know that our friend Mr. 
Knowlton is traveling sort of incog. 
His real name is Norton, and that fact 
demands what you might call supple- 
mentary proceedings. The big show is 
on to-morrow, and if you treat Mrs. 
Knowlton right she's very apt to give 
you a bid." 

"Hurrah!" shouted Driscoll. "In 
at the death is all I ask." 

" What an expression ! " said Lila. 

Mr. Driscoll, I'm offended." 

" I beg your pardon," said the gen- 
tleman gallantly. *' I didn't mean it, I 
assure you. Waiter!" 

" Yes. sir." 

"If I order another bottle of white 
wine — " 
'' Yes, sir." 



948 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



" I say, if I order more white 
wine — " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Don't bring it." 

" Yes, sir. No, sir." 

The table grinned, and made a con- 
certed and valiant attack on the dessert, 
while Jennings and Booth accused each 
other with some heat of being the cause 
of Driscoll's order. 

Presently Driscoll rapped on the 
table for attention, and glared fiercely 
at the disputants till he got it. 

" Lady and gentlemen," said he, " I 
must ask your kind favor and indul- 
gence. Unlike - the rest of this proud 
assembly. Air. Jennings and myself are 
workingmen. We earn our bread by 
toil." 

Cries of "Hear, hear! " came from 
Jennings, while the others jeered. 

" Howbeit," continued the speaker, 
silencing the interruptions with an im- 
perious gesture, " we must be at our 
tasks by eight o'clock. It is now seven- 
twenty. 

" I understand that Mr. Dumain has 
a surprise in store for us, and that Mr. 
Knowlton has kindly consented to 
make a speech. In the interests of 
equality and justice I demand that 
these ceremonies begin at once." 

Applause, continued and vocifer- 
ous, from Jennings. Booth and Siegel 
each grasped .pne of his arms and held 
him quiet. Driscoll turned to Dumain 
and demanded an answer. 

" All right," said the little French- 
man, "(I'm ready." 

"What about it?" Driscoll turned 
to the others. 

They signified their approval. 
Knowlton, who had been silent 
throughout the dinner, nodded. Du- 
main rose to his feet, pushed back his 
chair, and cleared his throat. 

" About zee surprise," the little 
Frenchman began ; " eet ees a pleasant 
surprise. We are here this evening — " 

"Hear, hear!" murmured Jennings. 

" Silence him ! " ordered Driscoll. 
Booth and Siegel obeyed, and the 
speaker continued: 



" I say we are here this evening be- 
cause our hearts are glad for our 
friend Mr. Knowlton and our very 
dear lady — God bless her! — zee Lady 
Lila ! " 

"To her!" shouted Dougherty, 
springing to his feet and raising his 
glass on high. 

" To Lady Lila! " came in a deafen- 
ing chorus, while Lila rose to her feet, 
trembling and confused. 

They drank the toast amid cheers 
and applause. 

" And now." continued Dumain, 
when they had reseated themselves, 
" for zee surprise. I must go back a 
leetle, and I do not speak zee Angleesh 
so well, so you must have zee patience. 

" About Knowlton eet ees — only 
hees name ees Norton. I can only tell 
what I know. From what Sherman 
and our very dear lady have say to me 
I add zis to zat. and I know nearly all. 

" I know he was officer in a bank in 
Warton, Ohio, and zat money was 
missing, and zat our friend was what 
you call eet suspicioned. And about 
zis Sherman tol' me, and from what he 
look at me I theenk to myself, alia! 
.Sherman know more zan he say. 

" Well, il theenk very little about all 
zat — I nearly forget eet because we 
are all busy wiz trying to put Knowl- 
ton away from all. For many weeks 
I forget eet." 

Dumain paused, glanced at his audi- 
ence with the assurance of a man who 
holds a high trump, and continued: 

" All zis we all know. Well. To- 
day I take Knowlton here to my rooms 
where ees hees trunk I brought. But 
he needs something — we go out. 1 
stop in zee Lamartine to wait for heem 
— I go to zee telegraph desk. I go to 
zee cigar-stand, I go to zee front desk, 
and Geebson call me and say, ' Tele- 
gram here for a man named John Nor- 
ton. Do you know heem, Dumain?' 

*' I say, ' Yes, I will take eet to 
heem,' and he give eet to me, and I 
open eet and read eet to make sure. 
What I theenk, eet ees for Knowlton. 
Right. Here eet ees." 



HER FORBIDDEN KNIGHT. 



949 



He took a yellow telegraph-form 
from his pocket and waved it in the 
air. It was extra size — the telegram 
was a long one. 

They shouted. " Read it!" 

But Dumain tossed it to Knowlton. 
who. after reading it through, let it 
fall from his hands to the table and 
turned a white face to Lila. 

"What is it?" Lila faltered. 

Dougherty snatched up the telegram 
and read it aloud ■ 

"Mr. John Norton. Hotel Lamar- 
tinc. New York. Alma Sherman has 
confessed all. I was a fool not to be- 
lieve you, but come home. Her 
brother got the money. They have 
wired to the New York polite. Come 
home at once. Letter follows, but 
don't wait for it. Wire me immedi- 
ately. 

Fatiikr." 

" Oh ! cried Lila. " And now — 
and now- — " 

In the confusion that followed, 
while the others applauded and shout- 
ed and clapped Knowlton on the back 4 
Dougherty had to place his mouth 
close to her ear to make her hear : 

'* And now what? " he demanded. 

" And now." Lila answered. " he — 
he doesn't need me, after all." 

The ex-prizefighter sprang l<> his 
feet. 

" Ha ! " he cried in a tone of thun- 
der. "Silence! Shut up. you! 
Knowlton. do you know what your 
wife is saying? She says that now 
you won't need her! " 

Another moment and Knowlton was 
at her side, holding her in his arms. 

" Lila ! Dear little girl ! We shall 
go home — home — together. Darling! 
Not need you? Look at me! " 

For the next five minutes the Erring 
Knights and Lawyer Siegel were oc- 
cupied in the next room, chased there- 
to by Dougherty, who commanded 
them to make as much noise as possi- 
ble. 

Presently Knowlton's ,voice came : 
" Come back here ! What are you 

doing in there? il say, Dumain! 

Dougherty ! " 



They came through the door back- 
ward, in single file, and Lila was 
forced to laugh in spite of herself. 

" That's better," said Dougherty ap- 
provingly. " This is an occasion of 
joy, Mrs. Knowlton. No tears al- 
lowed." 

Lila smiled at him. 

"But say!" put in Driscoll, as he 
lit a cigarette — Lila had long since 
commanded them to smoke — " do you 
know what? That's what they took 
Sherman for at the court-room ! " 

" They didn't waste any time," 
Booth observed. 

" Oh. 1 know how he knew that," 
Lila was saying to Knowlton and Du- 
main. who had expressed their wonder 
at his father's knowledge of his ad- 
dress. " It was Mr. Sherman who 
told him." 

" Sherman ! " they exclaimed. 

" Yes," Lila asserted. 

Then she told them of the telegram 
.Sherman had sent to the president of 
the Warton National Bank concerning 
John Norton, and Dumain and Knowl- 
ton hastened to inform the others of 
the fact that they owed the receipt of 
the telegram to the enemy himself, 
thereby doubling their joyous hilarity. 

Then they surrounded Knowlton 
and demanded a speech. He protest- 
ed ; they insisted. He appealed to 
Lila for assistance: she commanded 
him to do his duty. 

There was no escape : he motioned 
them to be seated, and began : 

" Boys, I know this is no time to be 
serious — for you. You're having a 
good time. But you've asked me to 
talk, and to tell the truth. I'm glad of 
the chance to relieve my mind. If you 
don't like what I say it's your own 
fault. 1 know you're good sports, but 
there are one or two things II have to 
speak about. 

" First, money. You've spent about 
sixteen hundred dollars on my defense, 
and you've given me a thousand for a 
stake. There's been nothing said 
about it — you've turned it over to me 
without a word — but I want you to 



950 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



know that the first thing 1*11 do when 
I get home — when we get home — is to 
send yon a check for the twenty-six 
hundred. Now, don't think I'm refu- 
sing a favor; it isn't that. The Lord 
knows I've accepted enough favors 
from you without your insisting on 
that one, too." 

" Oh, of course, if you're rolling in 
wealth — " put in Driscoll. 

" Then that's settled. I'm not going 
to try to thank you; if I talked all 
night I couldn't make it strong enough. 
Lila and I are going out West where 
they like to say you find nothing hut 
good, clean Americans, and I've al- 
ways thought the boast was justified; 
but wherever we go, and whoever we 
see, we'll never meet as good men, or as 
straight sports, or as true friends as 
the Erring Knights. 

" Here's to you, boys ! God bless 
you ! " 

Knowlton's voice was trembling so 
that he could scarcely speak, and his 
eyes shone with tears as he drained the 
glass and threw it on the floor, where 
it broke in a thousand fragments. 

The following afternoon the bride 
and groom were escorted to the Grand 
Central Station by the Erring Knights. 
And there they received their re- 
ward if they had felt they needed any. 
For after Knowlton had shaken hands 
with each of them and arranged for a 
grand reunion when he and his wife 
should next visit New York, as they 
stood lined up at the entrance to the 
trackway, Lila approached Dougherty, 
who happened to be first, with a fare- 
well on her lips. 

He held out his hand. She ignored 
it, and, stretching on tiptoe, placed a 
hearty uncompromising kiss on his 
either cheek! And before he could re- 
cover she had passed on to Dumain 
and repeated the operation, and then 
to the remaining three. 

In another moment she was walking 
down the platform by the side of the 
train with her arm through that of her 

ITh. 



husband, preceded by two porters load- 
ed with bags and suit-cases and flowers 
and candy ; and every now and then she 
turned to look back at the Erring 
Knights, who were waving their hand- 
kerchiefs frantically in unrestrained 
and triumphant glee. And then, throw- 
ing a last kiss from the car platform, 
while Knowlton waved his hat, they dis- 
appeared inside, and a minute later the 
train pulled out. 

It happened, by a curious coincidence, 
that that train held two sets of passen- 
gers for the little town of Warton, 
Ohio. 

In a day-coach, seated side by side, 
were two men. The face of one, dark 
and evil looking, wore lines of sleepless- 
ness and despair and fear. The other, a 
small, heavy-set man with a ruddy coun- 
tenance, was seated next the aisle, and 
had an appearance of watchfulness as 
he kept one eye on his companion while 
he scanned the columns of a newspaper 
with the other. William Sherman was 
going home to pay. 

But a few feet away, in a Pullman, 
sat the man he had tried to ruin and 
the girl he had tried to wrong. 

They were looking at each other, they 
felt, almost for the first time. Between 
them, on the seat, their hands were 
closely clasped together. 

Thus they sat for many minutes, si- 
lent, while the train passed through the 
city, crossed to the west, and started 
on its journey northward along the 
banks of the glorious Hudson. 

" Dearest," said the man in a caress- 
ing tone. 

The girl pressed his hand tighter and 
sighed happily. 

" They're good fellows," the man 
continued, " every one of them. And 
to think' what we owe them ! Every- 
thing — everything! " 

" Yes," said the girl, " everything. 
We must never forget them." 

But the truth was, as was clearly ap- 
parent from the tone of her voice and 
the melting of her eyes into his, that 
she had forgotten them already! 

End.) 




Jack Brant 



G 



VP had no particular objections 
to being abducted. He'd been 
abducted before. 
That's because he was a yellow dog 
of anonymous pedigree, and yellow- 
dogs of that kind have been considered 
more or less common property since 
the world began. 

So when Big Bill, of the Reno Mu- 
sical Comedy Company, caught him at 
the back of Charlie Sands's hot-dog 
wagon in Topeka, and brought him| 
along as an addition to the company, 
there were no objections from Gyp. 
The only objections came from the 
said Charlie Sands, owner of the said 
hot-dog wagon. 

Charlie was also a member- of the 
company, and it was his duty, by vir- 
tue of his occupation, to look after the 
company's live stock, which consisted 
entirely of dogs. Actresses in stock- 
companies have a failing for dogs, 
and there were eight already, and Gyp 
made nine. 

Charlie would have struck openly if 
he had dared, but Big Bill had a way 
of getting things he wanted. So Gyp 
started for Texas. 

Gyp was fond of Charlie, for ma- 
terial reasons. This had no effect on 



Charlie's animosity, which rather in- 
creased with better acquaintance, and 
became a matter of comment to the 
other members of the company. 

Therefore, when Gyp was uncere- 
moniously kicked off the back plat- 
form of the moving train some three 
miles out of Alamogordo. the only one 
who was surprised was Gyp. 

Gyp rolled like a ball for a dozen 
yards in the soft sand, and then got 
up and shook himself. He ran after 
the receding train a while and barked, 
but without effect. Then he sat down 
to inspect the country and, being a 
philosopher, forgot about the train. 

A Topeka dog suddenly dropped in 
the middle of a New Mexico desert 
finds lots of new things to interest 
him. 

The first new thing was a jack-rab- 
bit, which jumped up right in front of 
him. It looked strange, but it ran. and 
so Gyp pursued it. This was good 
sport, but discouraging, especially if 
one is not accustomed to breathing in 
a high altitude, and after a few miles 
he gave it up. 

He jumped at lizards till dark, 
which is less fatiguing, if less exci- 
ting. Then he curled up under a soap- 



951 



952 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



weed and slept till daylight on an 
empty stomach. Which is literal. 

He awoke to find a coyote watching 
him suspiciously. Gyp was very hun- 
gry, but he doubted if coyotes were 
good eating. He growled and bristled, 
hoping the thing would run away. 

It didn't, so Gyp left it, trying to 
appear dignified and not to hurry. 
After half a mile he dared to look 
back. Thank goodness, the thing 
wasn't following him. 

In the distance he caught sight of 
the roofs of Alamogordo, shining 
through the mesquit. He instantly 
connected houses with food, for lie 
was very hungry, and he started for 
them. The desert was no place for a 
tenderfoot. 

On the way in he could not resist 
chasing one more jack-rabbit. He 
knew it was useless, but it ran from 
him, and he needed something to make 
him feel brave after the episode of the 
coyote. He thought his wind acted 
better this time, but it made his hun- 
ger simply frightful. 

After this he went straight, only 
stopping to wonder at a flock of moun- 
tain quail. They also ran from him. 
and he estimated that they were not 
as fast as a rabbit. But he knew birds, 
and let them go ; like as not the mean 
things would start to fly the minute he 
caught up to them. 

That town was a good deal farther 
off than he had thought. But at last 
he reached cultivated land, and got a 
drink out of a ditch. 

There were a lot of these ditches, 
and some of them had leaked over 
whole fields. Wherever a ditch had 
leaked the desert had stopped. This 
interested Gyp, but he didn't under- 
stand it. 

He didn't bother much with the 
farms. They all had dogs, and Gyp 
knew that one dog to a family was 
usually enough. Only stock compa- 
nies went in for dogs in quantities. So 
he kept right on until he reached the 
main street of the town. 

There were trees on this street, and 



it was cool and quiet, and had familiar 
smells. Then one delicious smell float- 
ed down and blotted out all the rest. 
Gyp raised his head and sniffed in 
pleasurable anticipation. 

I'm not sure that the phrase " to fol- 
low one's nose " was invented to ap- 
ply to yellow dogs, but it is certain 
that it was more than a motto to Gyp 
— it was the law of life. 

Gyp followed his nose, and in a few 
minutes was enjoying a feast of the 
vision through the half-open door of 
Mr. Wiggle's bakery. 

Mr. Wiggle was a large man in 
every direction — the size you always 
expect in a good cook or a good baker. 
And Mr. Wiggle was a German, and 
a good baker. 

Gyp loved him at sight. He always 
loved bakers — it ' was his religion. 
When he was a puppy his mother had 
told him that if he was good he might 
some day be the dog of a baker. Moth- 
ers of puppies have a habit of doing 
this, the same as mothers of boys tell- 
ing them that they may some day be 
President. 

Mr. Wiggle, with sleeves rolled 
high, was stirring rich, dark dough 
with the arm of a smith. Gyp watched 
entranced, with slowly wagging tail. 

Mr. Wiggle .suspended operations 
to inspect the oven. Through the door 
Gyp caught sight of billows and bil- 
lows of fresh bread. A thumb test 
proved satisfactory, and the pans of 
bread were removed by means of a 
broad wooden paddle on the end of a 
long pole — over three hundred loaves, 
each loaf looking as if it had been es- 
pecially baked for a competition. 

The motion of Gyp's tail was per- 
ceptibly increased. 

The bread was deposited in tiers on 
the scoured pine shelves, and Mr. 
Wiggle turned again to the dark-brown 
dough. Satisfied with its consistency 
at last, a hunk was rolled into a long- 
sausage, and this was pinched into 
pieces as big as plums by the thumb 
and forefinger as rapidly and accu- 
rately as if by machine. 



DOG'S LUCK. 



953 



Then taking a piece in each hand, 
Mr. Wiggle rounded them by the sim- 
ple method of rolling them on his tight 
white apron, over that part of the 
anatomy which gave them their name 
" belly-rubs.'' The more proper, and, 
perhaps, better known name is circus- 
cakes, for though they go into the oven 
round, they come out flat and crisp and 
familiar, deeply veined and irresistible. 

Gyp, still unobserved, watched every 
movement. The pans were filled and 
went into the oven on the same long 
paddle that had removed the bread. 

In a surprisingly short time they 
were done and the pans were cooling 
on the floor, while the aroma of fresh 
circus-cakes flooded the bakery, floated 
out of the shop and up and down the 
quiet street, threatening to attract all 
who passed to the half-open door. 

Gyp's tail was working furiously 
now, so that there seemed danger of its 
flying off by centrifugal force. Two 
other dogs joined him — fat, well-fed 
family dogs, who came merely for the 
smell, as a sort of substitute for the 
after-dinner cigar. 

But if the local dogs could be satisfied 
with the smell, this was not the case 
with Gyp. Even the fresh " weenies " 
at Charlie Sands's hot-dog cart had 
never tempted him thus. Gyp was pre- 
pared to sell his reputation for honesty 
for one of those fresh cakes. But then 
Gyp's reputation for honesty where 
food was concerned was never worth 
very much. 

The opportunity came, and Gyp, with 
the quick instincts of vagrancy, ob- 
served it. Mr. Wiggle looked at his 
work and saw that it was good. Then 
he turned to the water-pail with its long- 
handled iron dipper, for baking is 
thirsty business. 

In an instant Gyp was through the 
door. The two local dogs watched him 
— first with astonishment, then with 
pity — but Gyp heeded them not. 

At the edge of the nearest pan Gyp 
turned for a quick look at Mr. Wiggle. 
At that same moment Mr. Wiggle 
chanced to glance down from his dipper. 



He caught Gyp's eye with understand- 
ing. The jig was up ! 

If Gyp had departed then it is likely 
that he would have gotten safely away, 
for he could move like a thought when 
necessary. But the intoxication for 
circus-cakes was upon him. He made 
one frantic grab, caught one in his 
teeth, and started for the door. 

That extra second was Gyp's un- 
doing. The iron dipper with the long 
handle started flying through the air, 
accompanied by the expressive word 
"Git!" 

Gyp was " gitting " as fast as he 
knew how, but as he reached the door 
something struck his hind leg. He 
dropped his precious circus-cake with a 
yell of pain and hurtled out into the 
street. 

The two local dogs had retired to a 
safe distance and watched the exit with 
amused " I told you so " expressions. 
They had learned their lessons long be- 
fore and felt superior. 

Poor Gyp got across the street on 
three legs and hid behind some iron 
roofing piled against the fence. He had 
stopped yelping when he reached cover, 
but his hind leg hung down and pained 
him terribly. He leaned over and be- 
gan to lick with caution where the bone 
turned an unnatural angle. It was 
broken. 

When Mr. Wiggle reached the door 
Gyp was nowhere to be seen. This was 
not a new game for him — the game of 
a dog and the cakes and the iron dipper 
— the door would get left open and the 
odors of his wares were most inviting. 

But Mr. Wiggle was a kindly man 
and bore no malice. He looked upon 
the disciplining of clogs much the same 
as on the disciplining of children — a 
disagreeable task, but for their own 
good and not a protest against their 
existence. 

When he hit the mark with the dip- 
per he would throw out a cake as ai 
tentative peace-offering, knowing from 
experience that it would in no way 
detract from the moral effect of the 
lesson. Now, the cake that Gyp had 



954 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



dropped was tossed into the street and 
promptly eaten by one of the well-fed 
local dogs. 

Mr. Wiggle picked up his dipper and 
returned to his work well pleased, 
which would not have been the case 
had he known of the pitiful yellow dog 
behind the iron roofing, nearly starved 
and nursing a broken leg. 

Poor Gyp was discouraged. He had 
been hurt before, many times, by kicks 
and stones and sticks, and in twenty 
fights with dogs and one — only one — 
with a cat. 

With bites and bruises he was famil- 
iar, but this was different — it hurt 
more and made his leg queer and use- 
less — and in his dog mind he knew this 
was serious. Even to such a confirmed 
optimist as he was by nature, the future 
looked black. 

Nobody loved a yellow dog — no- 
body cared whether he lived or not. 
If he should venture forth now in 
broad daylight some one would shoot 
him. He remembered seeing a dog 
that had been hit by an automobile, 
and his hind leg had dragged in the 
same way. and a man had shot him, 
and a lot of ladies in the automobile 
had said it was a good thing, because 
it put him out of his suffering. 

Gyp was suffering now more than 
he had ever thought it possible to suf- 
- fer. but it never occurred to him to 
go out in hope that some one would 
shoot him. Nobody had ever told him 
about the Happy Hunting-Ground in 
the Hereafter, and death held no pros- 
pects. v He stayed out of sight and suf- 
fered and starved. 

Somewhere there is a story told of 
a man whose punishment for sin in 
this world is to suffer from thirst 
through eternity, though up to his chin 
in water. We gasp with horror at the 
picture this brings before us. 

There are tales aplenty of men who 
have starved in sight of most tempting 
eatables, placed just out of reach by 
inhuman torturers. Again we shudder. 

Now picture to yourself a little yel- 
low dog between a fence and a piece 



of iron roofing, nursing a broken leg 
and starving — actually starving — while 
from across the street floats the fra- 
grance of fresh bread and cakes and 
doughnuts — everything that can make 
a dog's life worth while. 

Gyp tried to doze, but the pain made 
that impossible. So he lay still and 
suffered and listened. 

Four o'clock struck and school let 
out, disgorging its swarm of children 
in all directions, like sparks from a 
pin wheel. 

Then five o'clock came, and he heard 
Mr. Wiggle close his shop for the 
night and go into his house, which 
was built adjoining the bakery, con- 
nected by an inner door. 

At six the sound of a phonograph 
came faintly from the front parlor. 
Mr. Wiggle was enjoying his well- 
earned relaxation to the tune of a gen- 
uine German band. 

Now enter Bill Wiggle. Mr. Wig- 
gle's sturdy, tow-headed son. 

Bill was nine, and his ambition in 
life was to become a professional ball- 
player. His left hand was decorated 
with the regulation twenty-five-cent 
mitt, and in his right hand he scien- 
tifically thumbed the regulation twen- 
ty-five-cent ball. He had finished his 
supper, and was out for a few minutes' 
pitching practise before going to bed. 

He looked up the street and down 
the street in search of a catcher, but 
no catcher was to be seen. This was 
disappointing, but Bill also was an op- 
timist. 

The solid adobe wall of the bakery 
would make a fine back-stop, and the 
rebound of the ball would be more 
saving of time than the returns from 
the catcher. 

With a piece of white chalk he en- 
circled a portion of the wall sufficient 
in his estimation to equal the strike 
zone. Then he withdrew the regula- 
tion distance for the game of three- 
old-cat. balanced professionally on one 
foot for a moment, and shot one of 
his famous out -drops at the white 
circle. . 



DOG'S LUCK. 



955 



Why that particular out-drop failed 
to drop Bill never understood. Cer- 
tainly he held it the way so clearly ex- 
plained in the Boys' Baseball Guide, 
which he had in his pocket at the time; 
held it the way he always held an out- 
drop, threw it the same way, and wait- 
ed confidently for the result. 

There was no doubt that he had the 
out-twist correct — the ball started on 
an out and kept going out farther and 
farther until it struck. But instead of 
a drop, that perverse twenty-five-center 
took a distinct rise. 

When it struck it went neatly 
through a pane of one of the bakery 
windows, some fifteen feet from the 
white circle. 

Bill Wiggle looked incredulously at 
the broken pane. Was it possible that 
he could have made a shot like that? 

He looked around — the street was 
empty — no one else could have thrown 
the ball. From the distant front par- 
lor came the strains of a German band 
— evidently Mr. Wiggle had not been 
disturbed. 

At that moment Bill unconsciously 
blessed the inventor of German bands. 
Should he run in and tell his father 
what had happened? This would be 
hard to do, for Mr. Wiggle was not 
interested in the science of the out- 
drop, and Bill knew from experience 
that there would be little sympathy. 
He knew also that his father consid- 
ered the disciplining of children as 
necessarv as the disciplining of dogs, 
though disagreeable. 

Then why take this time to confess 
when Mr. Wiggle was enjoying him- 
self? It would spoil both their eve- 
nings. It would be much better for 
everybody to wait until morning. 

But Billy must get his ball. To leave 
the ball there over night would be the 
height of folly. Near the window stood 
a large upright piano-crate. 

It had been there a long time, ever 
since the piano had come — for Mr. 
Wiggle had not yet decided whether to 
merely rent the piano or buy it. If 
Billy could turn it over once it would 



easily reach to the middle of the 
window. 

He tried — it was not heavy — he 
turned it. Now to get on top. It was 
high and hollow, and to shin up would 
make too much noise. 

Xear-by was a pile of long two-by- 
four planks. Bill raised the end of one 
and was able to place it on top of the 
piano-case. Then he walked quickly up 
the inclined plane, unlatched the win- 
dow by putting his hand through the 
hole made by the ball, carefully lowered 
the upper half, stepped through to the 
sill inside, felt his way round a table 
piled high with empty pans, and discov- 
ered the ball in the middle of the floor. 

Back he climbed and the trick was 
done. 

So far so good. But it would never 
do to leave a big hole in the window all 
night. The night was full of cats, and 
they could climb, and a cat in the bakery 
was something Bill knew his father 
could not stand. A short way down the 
street, near the lumber-yard. Bill re- 
membered having seen an old pair of 
trousers, and they might be there still. 

Luck was with him again, and he 
found them. They were weak with 
age, and he was able to tear out a gen- 
erous piece — a piece that contained the 
two rear suspender buttons and most 
of the seat. 

He returned to the top of the crate 
and, leaning over the window-frame, 
tucked the cloth in the jagged hole. 
The window had a spring lock, and 
would fasten itself when raised. 

Suddenly Bill stopped and listened. 
There sounded a heavy tread on the 
other side of the connecting door — the 
German-band side. 

"Hi! Git out of there! " 

There was no doubt about it. It 
was his father's voice. The command 
was strange, considering the circum- 
stances; but Bill knew better than to 
disobey. He had been told to git, and 
he got. 

Down the inclined plane he dashed, 
and round the house. And then, not 
being pursued, he decided that he was 



956 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



tired and would go to bed, and there 
await whatever might happen. 

Gyp woke about midnight, with a 
fierce aching in his leg. With con- 
sciousness came hunger, and he real- 
ized that he must eat to live, and eat 
immediately. 

Painfully he dragged himself from 
behind the roofing and sniffed at the 
night. Opposite was the bakery, and 
from an open window came a faint 
smell of circus-cake. 

In front of the window was a big 
box. with a board leading to the top. 
Gyp went to investigate, and soon 
found himself on top of the box. peer- 
ing into the blackness of the room be- 
low. 

The smell of circus-cake was strong, 
and weakly a little tail began to wag. 
Gyp felt over the edge with one foot. 
It landed on a bunch of cloth. Grasp- 
ing the cloth with his teeth, he let him- 
self over, the pain in his leg almost 
making him yelp as it bumped against 
the edge. 

He was hanging now. and in a mo- 
ment he would be on the sill below, and 
then — 

And then the cloth he was biting 
loosened and came out. and he fell 
backward, striking a pile of pans. 
Down he went, and raffle! bang! bang! 
came the pans on top of him. 

" Mine goodness ! " cried Mr. Wig- 
gle, and was half-way down the stairs, 
a revolver in one hand and a pillow in 
the other, before the last pan fell. 

Mrs. Wiggle stopped to light a can- 
dle, and then followed as fast as she 
could, with the result that the candle 
went out promptly and delayed matters. 

They found the bakery empty, save 
for a little yellow clog with a broken 
leg, stunned beneath a pile of pans. 
Tightly gripped in the little dog's teeth 
was most of the seat of an old pair of 
trousers. 

The window was open wide, a pane 
of glass was broken, and a box was 
pushed conveniently outside. Mr. 
Wiggle looked at everything carefully 
and drew his own conclusions. 



"Mine goodness!" he said again. 
" Robbers ! Und all from the bank — 
und in the safe — Mine goodness! " 

And Mrs. Wiggle took Gyp in her 
arms and cried a little, because she 
was frightened. And Gyp recovered 
and licked her face to show that every- 
thing was all right. 

And while Mr. Wiggle was removing 
two heavy bags from the old-fashioned 
safe in the hall to a safer though more 
uncomfortable position under his pil- 
low, Mrs. Wiggle filled a big bowl with 
bread and milk, which certainly looked 
good to Gyp. 

She was a clever woman, and set the 
broken bone and bound it securely in 
splints while Gyp was eating. A warm 
bed was made out of a clothes-basket 
and an old blanket and a cushion, and 
Gyp was left in the front parlor. 

" Martin," said Mrs. Wiggle, when 
she was alone with her husband, 
" promise not to tell Billy about the 
burglars. The poor lamb would be 
frightened, and not dare to sleep alone, 
and be troubled with dreams." 

Mr. Wiggle, like the dutiful husband 
he was, promised. 

Bill got up in the morning with a 
feeling that something was coming to 
him. But his joy on discovering that 
the family had at last adopted a real 
dog did much to make him forget his 
fear. 

When the day passed, and the next, 
and no mention was made of the bro- 
ken glass. Bill believed that a miracle 
had happened, and that Gyp was re- 
sponsible. He might have brought up 
the subject himself, but it was a dis- 
agreeable thing to talk about, and the 
Boys' Guide to Baseball was really to 
blame; and. after all, why should he? 

Gyp accepted his new position with 
his usual philosophy, as a fitting retri- * 
bution for the* broken leg. 

Sleek and fat. and the constant com- 
panion of the best pitcher for his age 
in the country, he became an object 
of envy to all the local dogs. 

He certainly had had a streak of 
dog's luck. - 



All-Story Table -Talk 

A QUESTION OF PRIDE 




E have been looking through TnK All - Stories that have come out 
during the last twelve months and, for one reason or another, have 
become fairly swollen with pride. 



Even though pride is one of the seven deadly sins, in this case we feel it to 
be defensible, for after all we are not proud so much of our work in the matter 
as we are of the entertaining stuff we have got hold of. 

For instance, if you will consider the list of complete novels we have run 
throughout 191 3, you will see there has been some pretty nifty reading hand- 
ed to you. 

The list is something as follows: 

In Januarv we printed " SANDS O' LIFE." by William Patterson 
White; in February, "THE SECOND MAN," by Lee Robinet; in March, 
" THE BRAIN. BLIGHT." by Jack Harrower; in April, "COWARDS 
ALL" by William Tillinghast Eldridge; in May. " BARSTOW'S WIFE," 
by Robert Simpson; in June, "THE BLACK COMET," bv T- Earl Clauson; 
in July, "ANGEL CITIZENS,*' bv William Patterson White; in August, 
"THE DEVIL AFLOAT." bv Chauncey C. Hotchkiss; in September, "THE 
COPPER PRINCESS," bv Perley Poore Sheehan: in October, "THE 
INVISIBLE EMPIRE." by Stephen Chalmers; in November, "A MAN 
WITHOUT A SOUL," by Edgar Rice Burroughs: and this month, "A 
THIEVES' COMEDY," by Simeon Robertson. 

If you have traveled along with these stories you have come very close to 
circling the globe, for you have been in China, Peru, in the Malay Archi- 
pelago, in the Caribbean, on the West Coast of Africa, in England, in the great 
Northwest, amid the Rockies, and in New York. 

What's the use of paying out great wads of money for a world's tour when 
you may so simply and easily make the Grand Tour aboard the good ship All- 
Story in the company of youthful pirates, famous doctors, famous detectives, 
beautiful women, cowboys, seafarers, adventurers, emperors, and princesses? 

It seems to us that no better qompanv could be desired, and we believe if 
you will continue the sail with us you will meet a company as cheerful and as 
unusual as you have played with during this last year. 

We feel that after so full an explanation our apparent pride and lack of 
modesty will be easily condoned. We hope that you feel more or less the same 
way we do, and that our voyage together will be uninterrupted and practically 
without termination. 

THE "ALL-ABOARD" BUGLE 

Our 19 1 4 cruise is about to begin. 

All the cargo is aboard and already they are casting off. We suppose, 
then, it behooves us to tell the passengers a little of the trip they are about to 
make — not too much, for fear there would be no surprise in store for them, 
but just enough to pique their curiosity. 

Therefore, let us say that our first great point of interest in January will 
be the complete novel which goes by the name of 

957 



958 THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 

THE OUTSIDER 

and which was written by J. Earl Clauson. Here is a story of long and bitter 
nights amid the ice of the Arctic Circle: here is an American girl who finds her- 
self forsaken in a tribe of Eskimos. How the gloom of the night is changed 
to the glory of the day. and how protection comes to this girl from a young 
red-headed giant, and what becomes of the love of the two of them is the basis 
of Mr. Clauson's yarn. 

Besides this he has given us a series of thrills and a catalogue of adven- 
tures that are away out of the ordinary. He has written brilliantly of the North- 
land, and sympathetically of those, perhaps, unfortunate folks who were born 
there and who spend their days in the glare of ancient ice. This is a strong 
story, and has appeal for both men and women, for the girl in the yarn is very, 
very human. 

There is going to be a new serial, of course, in January, and it is /written 
by a San Francisco man named Charles C. Dobie, and is about a sophisticated 
people. It is called 

A NIGHT'S HARVEST 

and as a contrast to Mr. Clauson's yarn it serves splendidly. The oppression 
of convention, the strength of scandal, and the lastingness of devotion are the 
points Mr. Dobie makes. He has a cast of only six characters — three men and 
three women — but each stands for a class in American social conditions, and 
they work out their individual destinies according to the class to which each 
belongs. 

We are sure you will find this an engrossing novel because it is very true 
to life, and because it is verv svmpaihetic. 

"THE WARLORD OF MARS " will, of course, continue. You will find 
the Story getting better and better as it goes along. It certainly is a sockdolo- 
ger. And then there will be continuations of "THE HOUSE OF SOR- 
CERY - and - NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH." 

There are going to be a number of short stories, too. by various people, 
including Frank Leon Smith. Jack Brant, and Donald A. Kahn. 

So you may rest assured that we shall start out on this much-talked-of 
trip of ours with plenty of interest and plenty of geniality. 

A Call for Ginger bccile." and " Tarzan of the Apes" I still 

CHICAGO Illinois keep to read over when all else in the read- 
Editor The All-Story Magazine. "hV"™ exhaustctl ' ? ° interestin S arc 

D For Hie : iovc of Pete, stir up some ginger . I_ ^L.ean Savage's "MaStar 
m your authors and get them to write some <'<™ Milk-Man a pood story and K T. 
more like Burroughs "Tarzan of the Stouts Her Forbidden Knight, and Bur- 
Apes." "Gods of Mars," "Under the . ro "S hs . R . C f av , c , G !. rl tI equa ly as good : 
Moons of Mars." el cetera. The aforesaid j^T did not like Hannibal s Oath or 
Mr. Burroughs deserves a sentence in the Pilgrims in Love. 

"pen" for not giving us a sequel to the 1 «" «™ adnurcr of The All-Story. 

stories on Mars Your " Martian Glos- though you have not had any of my opm- 

sary" in the October number only served ,ons 1,11 " ow - . 

as baiting the bull, and unless vou give us Yours in anguish. \\ . \\ . M. 

some more on Barsoom we will rise in re- 1 «* W* the le gends! 
hellion and " put down the vokc of slavery.' 

Tell Chauncey C. that "he will have to T»..h» and Cheap- 

give us some more stories whether his Empiric. C. Z. 

devils are "afloat" or "ashore.'' Editor The All-Story. 

Your old numbers containing "Just Like Dear Sir: 
Wyoming," " Forest Reaper," " Prince Im- Most fiction magazines are interesting. 



ALL-STORY TABLE-TALK. 



959 



and are entertaining when time is heavy 
on one's hands. But once read and they 
are trash. The All-Story is different. 
When you read a story like " Sands o' 
Life," or " The Invisible Empire," you do 
not want to throw that away. 

The All-Story you read, carefully 
save, and reread. Here it is that one finds 
favorites better with every reading. One 
who takes The All-Story has a perpetu- 
ally increasing library of entertaining, 
wholesome fiction. 

There is much difference between things 
that are " cheap " and things that are 
" trash." Poe's Raven " was sold cheap 
— but it was not trash ! 

Certain magazines print " daring," sen- 
sational stories. They are trash — but they 
are not cheap ! The average popular fic- 
tion magazine — it is trash and cheap! The 
All-Story is of the " Raven " class — 
cheap, but not trash. 

To one who has read several numbers 
of The All-Story it has a certain charm, 
and one " gets the habit " — a desire that 
no other magazine can satisfy. 

Some seem to think that the sensational 
is low class. 

" Gods of Mars " and " The Moons of 
Mars " are no more trash than Jules 
Verne's stories. If " Tarzan of the Apes" 
is trash, so are Kipling and Doyle. Bur- 
roughs and Verne, Burroughs and Kipling ! 

I agree with H. R. B. and L. C. in the 
October number — get Mr. Burroughs to 
give us a scries of John Carter's adven- 
tures on other planets. Tarzan was great. 

Give us plenty of scientific and impossi- 
ble stories. " The Brain Blight," " The 
Copper Princess," " The Gods of Mars," 
'• Lure of Gold," " Star Dust," and " The 
Black Comet " were great. 

Also give us more wild adventure like 
" Sands o' Life." " The Invisible Em- 
pire," " The Savage," and " On the Trail 
of an Emperor " were all great. 

Give us sequels to *' The Copper Prin- 
cess " and " Gods of Mars." Will you 
please tell me in what number " Under the 
Moons of Mars" began? Why not con- 
tinue the volume index to aid in locating 
stories and securing missing numbers? 
Yours truly, 

D. F. A. 



Anent The Cave Girl's Life 

Middlesboro, Kentucky. 
Editor Table-Talk. 
Dear Sir: 

Do you think Burroughs intends to leave 
the " Cave-Girl " for all time on the 
island ? 



He is a splendid writer, but seems to me 
leaves his stories unfinished. 

Yours very truly, C. C. H. 



A Patient Waiter 

St. Paul. Minnesota. 
Editor All-Story Magazine. 
Dear Sir: 

Enclosed please find five cents to cover 
cost of mailing, and fifteen cents to pay 
for magazine, for which kindly send me 
the June, 1913, issue of The All-Story. 

I was a little late in going to my dealer's 
for this copy, and the result was a fruitless 
hunt among most of the news-stands in the 
city. 

When are we going to get a sequel to 
" The Gods of Mars f " I am waiting pa- 
tiently. 

Yours for a continuance of imaginary 
varus, 

R. A. E. 



An Original Liar 

Detroit, Michigan. 
Editor All- (Good) -Stories Magazine: 

This is from a reader who travels all 
over the United States where God placed 
coal and man digs it, and who in the course 
of fourteen years has seen many wonder- 
ful things and horrible things happen miles 
under the ground where the sun never 
shines. 

I cannot see why Burroughs has over- 
looked the coal-mine as a field for his won- 
derful creations. 

As an original liar he is supreme, and 
my greatest pleasure is in wondering if he 
is really sane. 

I insist upon your making The All- 
Story a two-a-month publication. It's too 
darn long to wait, and it seems as though 
enough of your readers have asked this to 
receive at least an excuse as to why not. 

If you have a reasonable excuse let's 
hear it. If not, we want and will have a 
two-a-month All- ( Good ) -Stories. 

Yours, 

D. M. R. 
Slogan : " Two a month or bust ! " 



Burroughs in Bookform 

Altus. Oklahoma. 
Editor The All-Story Magazine. 
Dear Sir : 

I am writing you to find out if there is 
any possible way of getting three of E. R. 
Burroughs's stories in bookform. Would 
like to have " Under the Moons of Mars," 
" The Gods of Mars," and " Tarzan of the 
Apes." 



960 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. 



I have been reading The All-Story 
Magazine, for a long time, so long I have 
forgotten just when I did get the first 
number. Wish you would let me knew at 
once whether I can get the three stories in 
bookform or not, at any price. 

Yours trulv. 

J. E. F., Jk. 



Burroughs Dead? 

Pakacale, A. C. Luzon, P. I. 
Editor All-Story Magazine. 
Dear Sir: 

Tender my most heartfelt sympathy to 
the friends and relatives of Mr. E. R. Bur- 
roughs. His death must have been very 
sudden. 1 liked his stories very much. It 
is too bad he could not have finished " The 
Gods of Mars." 

Am sending money for October. 19,12, 
Ai.i.-Story. Mine did not reach me. If 
you have one, or can get it. please send it 
to me. 

I have been with 'fjiE Au.-Story for 
several years. It gets* here a month be- 
hind. You know how good it is, so there 
is no use to try and tell you, because I 
can't. 

Very trulv vours, 

G. M. 



Mr. Monahan's Cover 

Loxnox, England. 
Editor Ai.l-Story Magazine. 

If you continue to maintain the same 
standard of excellence as that demon- 
strated by the cover design illustrating an 
incident in " The Copper Princess " in the 
September issue of The All-Story, your 
covers should certainly lack nothing in 
color-magnetism, for if covers are to be as 
suns to thaw the snows of magazine skep- 
ticism, one, at least, has served its pur- 
pose. 

A long life to Monahan — magazine edi- 
tors need him. 

A. H. 



"The Invisible Empire" Ace High 

1 Xew York, New Yurk. 
Editor The All-Story. 

1 want to compliment you on " The In- 
visible Empire."' It was ace-high. I was 
almost sorry it was not a serial story that 
I might have enjoyed the suspense and an- 
ticipation of the sequel. Can't you induce 
Mr. Chalmers to write a story of ancient 
Egypt ? 

■" The Copper Princess was immense. 



I feel sure your readers would like to hear 
more of the Ineas. I had an almost irre- 
sistible impulse to visit the Museum of 
.Natural History and ask to be shown 
'" our " Copper Princess. 

If Mr. Burroughs does not leave John 
Carter and his bride in a safe position at 
the conclusion of his next Mars story I 
will appeal to the rest of your readers for 
entrants to an expedition to save both of 
them. 

With best wishes for a continued run 
of your good stories. 

Yours verv truly, 

]•. L. B. 



Ghosts and Weird Happenings 

London, England. 

Dear Editor : 

Am hurrying this through to you with the 
suggestion that the December All-Story 
should be a double number after the 
fashion of our English magazines. Fail- 
ing this, give us such a treat to commence 
the Xew Year with. You will have ap- 
preciative remarks from all your readers, 
and you must have plenty of reading mat- 
ter to absolutely satisfy all tastes. 

In the October number of the good old 
magazine. I. C. D. asks for something 
" creepy." I am in accord. 

How many times have I crept up to the 
room of sleep with hair raised and " nerves " 
galore when such yarns have been running 
in your earlier numbers. 

Remember the '"Circular Staircase"? 
Yes. let us have some " ghosts," haunted 
rooms, weird happenings, et cetera. What 
could be more seasonable for the, winter 
editions ? 

Glad to have secured you a couple of 
new readers. 

Excuse such a long epistle; but think it 
over ! 

Best wishes from, 

P. A. W. 



Mr. Cass and Diplomacy 

Chicago, Illinois. 
Editor The All-Story Magazine. 

The story " Pilgrims in Love,'' in your 
October issue, is a very sweet, dainty storv 
of Orientalism that should appeal to any 
reader of fiction. 

Mr. De Lysle F. Cass is to be compli- 
mented on the diplomatic way he has han- 
dled a very difficult subject — Oriental love. 

Hope to see more of his work in The 
All-Story. 

Very truly yours, 

G. W. S. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 











1 1 







7m 



THE others are going to give him neckties 
and slippers and handkerchiefs and what not. 
If you are stumped and just don't know u)hat to 
get, take this little tip from Santa Claus — just you 
slip around to any tobacco shop and tell the 
man you want a one-pound glass humidor full of 
Prince Albert. He will fix you up a spanking 
fine Christmas package and you can slip it on the 
mantel for Him. Maybe you don't know what a 
crackerjack Christmas present P. A. makes, but 
take it from your Uncle Nicholas — that father, 
husband, brother or sweetheart of yours will 
make a mental note that "there's one woman 
who understands a man." The pungent, spicy 
aroma of P. A. adds to the Christmasy smell of the 
house. He will be glad you chose P. A., because 
he knows he can smoke all he wants during 
his holiday without a burned tongue or parched 
throat. Prince Albert can't bite anyone's tongue. 
Our patented process removes the bite. Buy 
that package now while the stores have plenty. 

P. A. is also sold in 10c tidy red tins; 5c toppy red 
bags and in pound and half-pound tin humidors. 

R. J. REYNOLDS TOBACCO CO., Winston-Salem, N. c. 



7« 0*«KWifi0 tht$ ailtcrtttcmcM if is ticttrabtt thai yon mention Tub Ai.i.-Snwv Uaomixb. 



THE ALL-STORY M AG AZ1XE— AD VKRTISI X SECTION. 



Startling Exclusive Improvements 

Step Starter — Selective Two-Speed — Double 
— Folding Foot Boards — Ful-Floteing 




npHE Harley-Davidson models for 1914 are marked for the innova- 
tions they present. Innovations, but not experiments, for every 
feature, every improvement, every refinement has stood the test of 
months and months of hard road service, for the makers of the Harley- 
Davidson never have and never will foist onto the public any so-called 
imorovement in an experimental stage. 

Step Starter Starts Machine With Rider in the Saddle 
and Both Wheels on the Ground. 

The step starter — another new and exclusive feature of the Harley-Davidson 
furnishes the only practical method of starting a motorcycle yet offered to the public. 

A downward push on either pedal spins the engine sufficiently to start it. 
This does away with the necessity of putting the machine on the stand to start, 
as the s'ep starter can be used when both wheels are on the ground. 

If the motor becomes stalled at any time it is no longer necessary to hold up 
traffic in a crowded street, find a level place in the road, get off in the mud, and 
set the machine on the stand to start it. A simple push on the pedal and the engine 
again begins to throb. 

HARLEY-DAVIDSON MOTOR CO. 

PRODUCERS OF HIGH GRADE MOTORCYCLES 



In nntwerinij thig ailverHtemtnt it ii iteiirnble thtt you mention Thb Am.-Stobt M»OiZ!Ni. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 



Mark the 1914 Harley-Davidson 

Brake Control — Double Control of Free Wheel 
Seat — Other Important Improvements. 



Selective Type of Two-Speed 

The Harley-Davidson selective type 
of two-speed we believe to be not only 
the most simple but the most compact 
and efficient that has been placed on the 
market. Iv is located inside the rear 
hub, thus avoiding dust, dirt or damage. 
Its speeds are selective and the rider 
can shift from low to high or high to low 
or to neutral at any time whether the 
machine is standing still or in motion. 
After thousands and thousands of miles 
of use on experimental models we are 
absolutely convinced that this is with- 
out question the most satisfactory type 
of two-speed that has ever been built. 

Double Brake Control 

The brake on the new Harley-David- 
son can be operated either by a foot 
lever on the right foot board or by back 
pedaling on either pedal. All models are 
equipped with the Harley-Davidson 
band brake. 

Double Control of Free Wheel 

Free Wheel Control now can be op- 
erated either by foot lever on the left 
foot board or by a hand lever. The 
foot lever control is an innovation which 
does away with all fumbling or feeling 
for the control lever and permits a much 
more rapid engaging or dis-engaging of 
the Free Wheel Control by the rider- 



Folding Foot Boards 

All models are equipped with folding 
foot boards. In addition to the foot 
boards the pedals are retained. The foot 
boards are unusually long thus per- 
mitting a great variety of positions 
according to the height of the rider. 
This overcomes the great objection to the 
ordinary type of foot boards. They were 
built to fit the ordinary man and con- 
sequently the purchaser who was a little 
taller or a little shorter had to suffer 
from the uncomfortable position his 
height forced him to assume. 

Ful-FIoteing Seat 

After building over 24,000 Harley- 
Davidsons incorporating the Ful-Flote- 
ing Seat, no possible method of im- 
provement has suggested itself. This 
seat has proven itself absolutely to be 
the greatest comfort device ever offered. 
Floating, as it does, the weight of the 
rider between two concealed, compress- 
ed springs it assimilates all the jars and 
vibrations due to rough roads. It is 
equally sensitive to the small rut and 
big bump. It is impossible for it to strike 
bottom and there is no rebound. 

We will be glad to send you descrip- 
tive literature giving full details of this 
and the many other important improve- 
ments together with the name of our 
dealer on request. 



347 B Street, Milwaukee, Wisconsin 
FOR MORE THAN TWELVE YEARS 



In answering this advertitement it ia dctirotrtc that you mention Tbb All Stoby Maoazinb. 



THIS ALL-STORY MAGAZ I N K Al) \ I'.k'l lSIN'O SKCTIOX. 



DIAMONDS-CREDIT 




THE LOFTIS "PERFECTION" DIAMOND RING ►« 

mf* ia our great special. It stands alone oa the most perfect Diamond Vj£ 
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Skillfully mounted in our famous Loftis "Perfection" 14k solid 
Dj gold 6-prong ring-, which possesses every line of delicate grace M 
*H and beauty. Cased in velvet ring box, ready for presentation. K; 
&J SPECIAL PRICE FOR CHRISTMAS PRESENTS $EA IW 

r| CREDIT TERMS: $5 PER MONTH 50 % 

Our large handsome Catalog shows the Loftis "Perfection" si 
tZ% Diamond King in many different sizes and prices. Also all EH 
other new, fashionable mountings. Send for Catalog. It is Free. *2, 

w g£ 



ft; Send for 
ffij your Free 
ffi copy of this 
& Christmas 



U Catalog 

ra — 

Over 2,000 
W suggestions 
K for 

K« Christmas 
& Gifts 

1 




please M 
you or 9 
refund £ji 
your 5$ 
money pj 

We PaTaH S§ 
Mail or Ki 
Express ^ 
Charges jyj 

1 

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x beautiful Diamonds, artistic solid gold and platinum mountings J*J 

M — exquisite things — ideal gifts — that sell in some cash stores jft 

£»> at double our prices. Select anything desired and let us svnd f «j 

It to you on approval* If satisfactory, send us one-lifth of r«i 

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{13 Oept, G84G, lOO to lOB N. State 3t.. CHICAGO, ILL. 12 

> t - lEatabliabi i ls5g) Stores in: Pittsburffb: St. Louis: Oroahs. i -i 



We Will 
Divide Our Profit 

Local Agents Invited 
to Share Our Earnings 

We now have actually in 

operation in the United States 

and Canada more than 15,000 Oliver 
.Local Agencies. 

These agents have received hundreds of 
thousands of dollars in profits on sales of 
Oliver Typewriters 

There are still hundreds of places where 
no agencies are established. 

Applicants must be earnest workers. 
They need not have had previous experi- 
ence. We enroll them at once ill The Oliver 
School of Practical Salesmanship and teach 
them selling — all as part of the free train- 
ing given Oliver Agents. 

Sometimes we send personal instructors 
to them. When they have proved their 
worth, we promote them to the direct 
service, in which they may rise to the 
highest positions in the Company. 

One of our general officials began his 
Oliver career as a Local Agent at Waco. 
Texas. 

Tt»c 



OLIVER 



The Standard Visible Writer 

is a splendid seller because ii is a splendid type- 
writer. It lias many exclusive features. It is the 
only typewriter that prints print. 

It really owns and controls Printype. now con- 
ceded to be one of the greatest single advances 
ever made in typewriter construction. 

We guarantee Printype to be exclusively used 
on Oliver Typewriters. 

Oliver Agents sell Printype Olivers in thou- 
sands. The demand is voluntary and steady. 

Oliver Agents are permitted to sell on our 17- 
Cents-a-Day Plan. They inav even secure their 
own sample outfits on I he 17-Cents-a-Dfly Plan and 
let earnings from their agency help carrv the deal. 

Oliver Agents are protected in exclusive selling 
rights in the territory given them. 

When you apply, be sure to give some details 
about the typewriter sales possibilities of your 
town, v i I lage or city . 

And Don't Delay 

We like and reward promptness. 
Hull details of Agency Proposition, a specimen 
of Printvpeand oilier interesting information will 

be sent immediately on receipt of your application. 

THE OLIVER TYPEWRITER COMPANY 



1043 Oliver Typewriter Building, CHICAGO 



C!7::> 



In answering any adrertttement on thit page it Is desirable that you mention Thi All-Stoht MiUAZiNB. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 



The Kodak 
Gift Case 

A quality and 
richness that will 
appeal to the 
most fastidious. 



Containing: 

Vest Pocket Kodak, with Kodak Anastigmat 
lens. Hand Carrying Case, of imported 
satin finish leather in a shade of soft brown 
that is in perfect harmony with the deep 
blue of the silk lined container. 

It solves that Christmas Problem. 

Fifteen Dollars at your Kodak Dealers. 
EASTMAN KODAK COMPANY, Rochester, N.Y. 




In answering thit advertiacment it it dciiroble that you mention Tax All-Stoby Mi.uzini. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 






36043 
$25.' 




Sweets jEWELS^m 

p FOR YOUR SWEETHEART ^2^8 

are an everlasting token of love and affection. They will keep rosyjl jg 
the memory of that eventful Christmas or other occasion. Our cata- II 
logue de luxe contains many appropriate suggestions, and illustra 
tions of a superior grade of perfect cut Blue White Diamonds, Watches, 
Jewelry and Silverware and explains how they can be obtained on 



OUR CREDIT TERMS 
20% DOWN — 10% MONTHLY 

You enjoy every advantage in price and quality. Guarantee 
k certificate given withTeach diamond. Full credit allowed 
on exchanges. Transactions strictly confidential. 
Write to-day for Catalogue No. 7 

A\ l. w. sweet & co. f 2 a ;vkn 






Special This Month! 




HAND 

engraved 
25 Year Cold Case 



3 Books FREE! 



J want to send you my three 
latest books— oyie the tttory of 

"The Diamond* 4 its discovery 
jrhere and how vihi>'d,cnt anil 
marketed— the other, "farts 
r* Hum''' or alt about the 
ft'uteh It .-./.<■- s both at home 
and abroad* al90 our big Free 
H atch and Diamond Catalog. 
P. Stephen Harris, Pres. 



d 3 a?s FREE TRIAL 



Now— during this Special Sale — is a splendid 
time to buy a fine Watch. We would like to 
send you this 17-Jewel Elgin in hand engraved 
25-year gold case for your inspection. It sells 
regularly at $20.00. We save you nearly one- 
half. If you answer this advertisement you 
can buy it for $12.75. 

We don't want you to send ua one 
cent. Not a penny. Merely give 
us your name and address that we 
may send you this handsome watch on approval. If after you receive it and want to 
keep it. then we ask fl* 400 ^ JiM IM LM If you don't want to 
you to pay us only Jfc #^ 1*1 \J 1^ I I I ■ keep it. send it back at 

our expense. You assume no risk whatever in dealing with us. You do not buy or pay 
one cent until we have placed the watch right in your hands for your decision. We isk 
No Security, No Interest. No 

red tape— just common honesty among men. 
If thlB offer appeals to you write toda> for 

Our Big Free Watch and Diamond Book. 



NO MONEY DOWN 



HARRIS-GO A R CO. 

Dept. 1000. KANSAS CITY, MO. 

JTtc House thnt Sellm Mor* Efain Watrhca than Any 
Other Firm in the World. 




In antwerinp any advertisement on this page it it desirable, that you mention Thb Am.-Stort Magazine. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 





From All Causes, Head Noises and Other Ear 
Troubles Ea sily and Permanently Relieved ! 

Thousands who were formerly 
deaf, now hear distinctly every 
sound — whispers even do not 
escape them. Thcirlifeof loneli- 
ness has ended and all is now joy 
and sunshine. The impaired or 
lacking portions of their ear 
drums have been reinforced by 
simple little devices, scientifi- 
cally constructed for that special 
purpose. 

Wilson Common -Sense 
Ear Drums 

often called "Little Wireiess Phones for the Ears" are restor- 
ing perfect hearing in every condition of deafness or defective 
hearing from causes such as Catarrhal Deafness. Relaxed or 
Sunken Drums, Thickened Drums, Roaring and Hissing 
Sounds, Perforated, Wholly or Partially Destroyed Drums. 
Discharge from Ears, etc. No matter what the case or how 
long standing it is, testimonials received - 
show marvelous results. Common Sense 
EarDrumsstrengthenthenervesoftheears 
and concentrate sound waves on one point 
of the natural drums, thus successfully re- 
storing perfect hearing where medical skill 
even fails to help. They a re made of a soft, 
sensitized material, comfortable and safe 
to wear. They are easily adjusted by the 
wearer and out of sight when worn. 

What has done so much for thousands 
of others will help you. Don't delay- 
Write «oday for our FREE 168 page 
BOOK on DEAFNESS — giving full 
particulars and plenty of testimonials. 
WILSON EAR DRUM CO., Incorporated 
242 Inter-Southern Bldg., Louisville, Ky. 





Drum 
i Position 




Xvm$ 

tors 



Shirley- 
President 
Suspender 



"A pair for every suit" 
makes a man's whole year *"*-~ 
happy. Try it and see! In 
beautiful sift boxes— 12 different 
pictures. At stores or postpaid, 50c. 

"Satisfaction or money buck"* 
Ho ettro "Shirley President" [MOuuuuklflS 

The ('. A. K<Iir;ire>ii Jlfc. Co., Shirley, 3Ia«. 



Taxidermy 

Book 
FREE. 




Write T^dny. 



Stuff Beautiful 

l> I Y* i\ C Learn by mail to 
OMM.M. UJ. 8t uir and mount 
all kill d8 of birds, animals, fish and 
line beads, make: tig", tan skins, 
tlount your own specimens and 
inuke mouey preserving for others. 
Men, Women and boys learn easily 
ill quickly. Success guaranteed or 
tuition. Write today for our won- 
derful FUKii book "How to Learn to 
Mount Birds and Animals. N.W.School of 
Taxidermy. 1089 Bhrood bld«., Oiu-iha, NeU 



TRS12dDr^ts- 

mnYflutfit 



The complete outfit, exactly as illustrated, 
sent absolutely free if you enroll now. Con- 
sists of german silver instruments in moroc- 
co case, T-square, transparent triangles and 
French curve, protractor, triangular scale, 
ink, pencil, pencil pointer, erasers and eras- 
ing shield, drawing paper and thumbtacks. 

Draftsmen Get Big Pay 

Draftsmen earn from S75 to $200 per month, depend- 
ing on the kind of instruction they've had. The work 
ia pleasant and the hours short — it is the only profes- 
sion where the demand exceeds the supply. Learn 
drafting — the foundation of all engineering professions 
— in your own home and without giving up your work. 
Our new, easy method will make you an expert drafts- 
man in a short time. 

C" p" p Our complete four volume Cyclopedia 
T fl L_ of Drawing, illustrated below, included 
free if you enrol! in this course now. These books cover 
completely the work of the architectural and mechan- 
ical draftsman. Students will lind them of great value 
as a reference work in connection with the personal 
instruction received from our expert engineers. The 
books are bound in half red morocco, gold stamped, 
and contain 1.720 pages. 7 x 10 inches; 1,037 illustra- 
tions, full page plates, diagrams, designs, etc. Re- 
member, these books do not cost you one 
penny — they are Included) without charge 
with the course. 

Seize Your 



Opportunity 

Fill In and mall the 
Coupon to'l.-iy — now 1 
l.rt us tell >'l«l llOWMWy 
it la u> lit yourself for a 
big job it ml l>itf pny .->?< a 
dr.ifi-m.ui. ItVuu'in- 
ber. vfo send you a $20 
drawing outfit mid a 
four volume reference 
work of (he sumo valuo 

absolutely free when 
you enroll. Xttn't tliis 
Worth investigating 'I 

AMERICAN SCHOOL OF 
CORRESPONDENCE 
CHICAGO, U.S.A. 

_ " A 




A. S. 
13-11 

A.S. olC. 

Gentlemen 1 
Without •any 

obligations, 
plcise fill ">o 
full particulars ie- 
eardinif vuiir com- 
plete course In dr.it- 

iii.'. Also Ii-ll HM aliOUt 
llic draftsman's ouint an«l 

lour volume reference work 

which arc included 1 KI-li 
with this course. 



in answering any advertisement on this page it is desirable that you mention The All-Stobt MaqaziNB. 



The Argosy Combination Agents' Bureau 

A Department of Opportunity Where the Manufacturer 
Meets the Men Who Sell His Goods 

ADDRESS ALL. INQUIRIES FOR RATES AND ENROLLMENTS TO THE AROOSY, 178 FIFTH AVENUE. NEW YORK 




JUST one of the 
hundreds of let- 
ters this depart- 
ment is constantly 
receiving", proves 
conclusively how- 
profitable any live- 
wire will find a careful perusal 
of the advertisements appearing 
in this section each month. 

A successful agent in Canada 
writes : 

" I wish to acknowledge having 
received many valuable proposi- 
tions which I have to attribute to 
your Agents' Bureau. I sincerely 
hope others will also benefit, and 
if there are any fees or dues or con- 
tributions to make, I shall be 
pleased to comply." 
This is only an example of the 
letters we are receiving from ambi- 
tious Agents throughout the country 
— wide awake hustlers who appre- 
ciate the splendid money-making 
opportunities this section offers to all 
who will grasp them. 

There are no fees or costs of any sort 
necessary to enable YOU to benefit by 
the exceptional chances for profit 
offered in these columns. All you need 
do is read these manufacturers' an- 
nouncements each month and then write 
to them for further information. 

And in order that we may keep in 
closer touch with you — help you in 
your efforts to increase your own in- 
come and become independent — simply 
fill out and mail the attached coupon 
NOW. To do so costs but a postage 
stamp — to neglect the opportunity may 
cost you the chance you have long been 
seeking. 

-COUPON Li 

1913. 



Tiik Frank A. MrtNSKV Cdmi'as'v, 
175 Kirtti Avenue. New York, 

I desire to he enrolled as a member of 

The ArKosy Combination Agents' Bureau 

wiiii the understanding thai this costs me absolutely 
nothing in due-., fees, or any charges whatsoever, 

1 am Interested in 



-Name 



I 
I 

. Ah.. v. iiot.klml ,.t kc.o.1. «,_»- 

tl.hlli >■,.« CAII "II. — _■ ■ • • ' "■ > StatB | 



.StIWt 



AGENTS 



MONEY MAKING 
Brandt Specialties 



is at LAS 



VACUUM 
MASSAGE 



SUCTION 
MACHINE 



for ii--*' by hand to retail at In 
demand l>\ both -ex.--.. IVrfect v- 
utiles in racial anil ncalp mas-uire. 
in developing Hi** bust. reint»vuitr 
w nnkies anil Uollowj*. blaekh.-ads. 
phni*leSi eU% Brings rosy tint to 
cheeks. Works wonders! 





BRAND NEW LIGHTER 

vel watch-shaved Lighter. Opt*r- 
■<l with one hand; gives an insian- 
tani'ous light every linn-. No t-loe- 
trieiry, tin l>iitr«-ry, no wires, 
noil - c xi'losi vi' ; cli n*H away 
with matches. Light?* your 
pipe, cigar, clgai'ette, pas 
Jet, et-C. Dandy thing for 
the end of your chain. Trt- 
meuchms seller. 



Beoanae it's common wtttts* 
every woman wants it ; as SELLER 
it now costs but 50a, she'll 

want several ; they save 

her lots of work and last 

forever; they save the 
Shot sand save the earners. 
Best and most practical 
shoo cleaner ever offered 
at any priCo. PriCGislow 
because yon buy iheiu diri 

I in port :iu i liisiruet Iouh : la order to secure an agency for 
any of Chose novelties, write at once- a post caiil is sufficient - 

anrl full prices and terms Will We sent you by return mail. We 

supply these articled t«i you low enough tu price to enable you 
to make u handsome profit. Our prnilt-sharniir plan is one of 
She fairest proposition! uuw open t.. hii-tlmy ir^ents. 

THE A. C. BRANDT CO., 148 Duane Street, New York 




WP W A NT RELIABLE AGENTS 

^ m exclusive line of Shirt 

AVaist ami Suit Materials, Handkerchiefs, etc This 
Is an exceptional opportunity for yon. Kxcellent territory. 
No experience required. Sam plea PR KK. 

MITCHELL & CHURCH CO.. 242 Water St.. Biogbamton, N. Y. 



'Over 80,000 in Use 

1 Mostly sold by rcLomnien- 
j datioa, Por Terminal Desh 
or Beoeral Office. 

[tchccksmentalcalculatlocs. 

. Handsome Morocco case free. 

Buy Thru Your Siaiioner. 

\v for ioday trial offer, 
A. H. Handier, A. A. N, Co., 
i W. Iiro*lw*y . Sew York (Jit* 



■^jAddinft 'Machine l\J 




Agents Wanted 




CLIMAX s o"obleI s s s FRY PAN 

Cooks all food juicy and tender, browns beautifully: no 
odor? toattraet Hi en or destroy the appetite of the one w ho 
prepares the meal*. So steam condensing? on por- 
tieres, furniture or clothing, to breed cernis : save* 

the priee ot itself many time 1 * over. Size, diameter 

11 In. Prepaid « 1.50. AGENTS WANTED. 

CONNOLLY COMPANY 

123 LIBERTY STREET, NEW YORK CITY 



In amwerinij any advertitement on Ihii page U <« deilrable that you mention TH> Ai.l-Sto»t M»oazin». 



The Argosy Combination Agents' Bureau 



AGENTS 





MiT.-h.-Hil-. Clerks, Mih-IhiiiIi 
Yfllllll: Mf»H mut Wdiiii'U win. are IflulCllIK for a 
I'nillUdile Knipli.ynu'iil. 11 1- - 

LlTHOLIA Complete Course 

In Show Card and Sign Writing 
and Seven LlTHOLIA Colors with necessary Brmhe* 

Sfiu uu*' wllilflt* «-vi r> « ii.-i'm. \.. tr**ul*li* In maklnc & r*i Pis 
a <lji\. i mImt- nn- ilnim! Ill M»" '' i,u ,i " u fanuVli ymi » nh 
I.-.mN i-vi-i \ » hi'i''. Wi iu* t**r iul"i maliou and v.i.-Hiit t i-i-ri |. try 




THE LlTHOLIA COLOR CO. 



S3 West 23rd St., 



Now York City 



\ TWTT C Y*to eiui j**. U *l»T»*ry woman from one in lei t 

/VOrLlN 1 O -jr.'* >' It .von can drive u nail jrmi 

rim ea-ny muke 9 III h day hy hungtng ail 
I lie pictures in the hoti-e. All yon carry is a small hammer and 

Anchor Picture Hooks 

If »on run ■••II Itfin.. llAmlmir* Hi nr.-* nml 
|lral*-r»j w will L-Uf yua nnwraplm! territory. 
Hainr |»icliim< tliis wttnilcrTnl. itam way 
without iif_-ly win-. Nn molding or ladder 
needed. l'irtiir«>* hanir straight at all 
timi* Hooks an- nd.ju-tahle. invisible in 

u*e. simple ami Ktniliif. PU'ttirwt hunt* up 

or taken lluwn as ea-llya5 vmi put on OV 
IV your hat. Semi mm lor KprrhU *uh'%. 

HUt 1l I" Marl •I'llliie m um-e, or ••■ml po-ml 
card lor further Information. 

BUFFALO-DEHN CO.. 700 Whit. Bldg., Bullalo. N.Y. 




Ladies Make$15 "$2 5 Weekly 



Selling our complete line of Sanitary Specialties for Women 
and Children. No money required — all or spare time — 
not sold in stores. We manufacture all our goods— save 
jobber's profit by buying direct from us. Send for catalog. 
The Holley Co., Dept. 189, Rochester, N. Y. 

P>|, ni , Inkl in 

I but nter u». 

I 'end tot Mtiiplo 



ENDETS 



Hlj In kit UIMH-ill, mnltCWti minam. tin. Inv, 
, N« fpiMer. c-tn«Pt -r rivtt Any ant ,, »n vh <h*m. 1 
t. 10c; 25c, r**t|>ol4. Aeenta 

V Wanted. Colletto Mfg. Co., Box 80S, Amsterdam, N. Y. | 




HERB IS AN OPPORTUNITY 

to make from .*10 U) a day. Sell 
(oner iitrn led I. iii nor Kxl rai'ts for 
■linking Lmiiioi-m .-mil Cordial* of 
llll kinds lit home. Sniiit'lliliiif en- 
tirely new . a lottiffoU want IIIUhI. every 
Iionu* a n-cr. Sintph* anil ousy. Saves 

over .Wr, a few minutes (lore the work* 

Strictly legitimate, no lieeiisr re- 
iinircil can Ik 1 *ohl anywhere, wet or 
dry. Kiiitiipmi- demand, sells ra-t. rollis ymi 

money, small, mmimct, parry weeks .supply 

in pocket. KxcUwJvO territory lietllfi snappi-d 
up— all or span- time -he quick— no experience necessary. 
SKM) POSTAL today for sample Outfit and full particulars. 
rNIVKKSAI. IMPORT CO., l>ept. 3007. < liieliinuil. Ohio 



MAKE $60.00 WEEKLY 



I Ml- II 

1 j-r 



//ere'.i what they alt want. Sell 

'*Ambrew" Concentrated Extract 

for Making Beer at Home. 

Strictly legitimate. Enormous 
inaiid, sells fa>t. coins you money. 
Small, com pact; carry in your pta-ket . 
Territory goltilf fa-t. No experieuci* v- 
quired. A II or -pare time. The neason 
cn, -:et ready for the warm weather -the 
b'u thirsi. If $SU a week i»r more looks 
grind to yon— end postal today. 

THE AMBREW COMPANY, Dept. 1863, Cincinnati, 0. 



nml v*' mm- n, 

, net iu« 
kln^- or.li 
Itohiiisnn I'oldhitf 

i • m.hi'.<hI>I>? ■ n ' •■ ii . i. '.i 




t"". - iW iukkv frutn IM.M tottM.M 

■■■ > nthtrial -hi** rv|tnMitiailv«fu ttirh 
MHwfntilHic nscniH, .it. i RdvorlliilMic ihe 

Knth Tub. Uwrtonbredlj ifa -i 

lor the ItVlira 111 30 <em*. SolVeN ■ 1 ■ — 




iNUllfltff |.o.t.|Hi.i. Any r>»>iii h 1m(Ii rttOtn. X>- nl)*r* f im plHttiMtIK, lirt -x- 
r*Mli leiiEfh bHUM with dn* Knhlnsmi I'oldlnff Tub. KhMh in 
i(Ml t iHitiny m« au nmlirvllq, i$*H-KM-i*f}liis. t'aiihui leak. 

Look Here; Two Sales a Day Means $60.00 Weekly 

M-n. thai** Mg miinrft Tu atiov yno Pi* I ilil* hlir,«nci praHi t« brlna ni^.i-, 
r«<i<| tii^-B rveunla: 

X. T. smtili, I mI...;,.. i- makluK «* litcli !:"".•>■! «>^klv. m.-v.t-. (*«". -«•%<•, 

Wla,, (iri'tiu. ntvi i Ui f |SM.ns. Brastry, fhiiflha*»iM«rf*<l fwven in 

fotti hnnr»| pnifli f on. r,.nn.!'.ni rtrni wfre*l utrnrlera on I, Ml inl«t«nAW 
wHIIok iMtiibM wvci.lv thmiiRli iiwiira. 

Clinic, fill in \\n-. I >.>i»*i •i-oM-i rtn l- >'•<« Unrig. Y««ti neari liiita ranihil. an 
ttX|tarlMir«. I luitil-li .'...r»ilrri,c. Jn.l *j iqi in.- it (...-i-.'m.t. |f \i.n\* |mM|**iI| 

nml . Iuuk|l«r f Ptlyivityuii lhaj.ijt. itnt m i qaf< klj . wtsteai »nce, Uotal Darywu. 
PRES. THE ROBINSON CABINET MFG. CO. 

202 Vance St.. Toledo. O. 




"\A7HP;S' you r.'iir.'^.'iit i 

, , factory, nn.f yum* ■»« 




Agency! 



i it I* Ju*t Uio muim aw thoujrb yon hnd your own 

-. - — i — 1 uupitu'M*. for you tweanw aar vwnrniantapvd 

and haaina pateOUHl np.-.-mln, -. „f prov.-n im-ril. V.»i,r c<mtrurl is f<»r 
e 'SciM«y« torriionr : , *'Biai«' Clothwi Kaok. *W«3r«ntfip*' ClolhM line 
Hrarkui, Sw-arity Door lloklof. "Nu-lWi" Cruuwr. "New Idva" 
ii€.s.- Suf>p4iru>r, Auiomaue '•rk-iui'* Curry Comb avll ••ticiuhi ami iU<> f.-».-t 
ivo your uwn i.- ami fiOMonora rapml for yoa aova ifinh; to 

' NO CHARGE FOR TERRITORY RIGHTS 

Ask f.»r <I<;tnlls of our Thou-iin.1 Di.llar Coniruct. 
It !■* a wnmu*r and will iui(ontfib lfuu 
Whon you h-.tvi- ^rnsiH-d it* wr.ndcr- 
fui i*o*~iliiliii.'.s ns n *rrrnt money 
maker for you. Terrltorhl* arv Koinir 
rapidly, "» write ii- nt (MOV. 
MOIO.KV S1'KCU|,TT COMPANY 1 
a-_'nd Street. Racine. Winconi'ln 



AGENTS Are Making Money 
Handling This Clever Specialty 

Every hoy and irirl wants one of the- o ifTtlcefUl llycrs ; t hey 
rise itKl feel and *ly IWM) feet. Handle it as a side-line and 
Bell it to the little ones afler yoa've sold their mother. 
Yon add to your eaminffH Without lllHkfnft an extra call. 

"Blue Birds** are <in i<*k sellers ami turn in a biff uroflt. 

Our agents' |irolHHtlt(oa is a winner write today. 

Sample to agents 8.1.00 prepaid. 

ii>i: \i. ai.koi'I.am: si pflv to. 

74-80 West ltroiulway New York 



> WASH WITH4 





t the ra pid vacuum 

?^Washer* 

THE SEW WAY 

VTO WeBT,no tear. Daintiest arti- 
Clou washed without injury. 
Tub of clothes washed in OtolOmln- 
ntes. A cliild can operate it. It i.^ 
wellmwle ami liglit asa washboard. 

Instontaneottsly Attachnhle to any 
Statfoniiry, onlumry wooden or sin 
metal tub. 

Send for 30 day trial offer and terms to agents. 
STEWART-SKINNER CO. 

107 Cherry Street - Worcester, Mass. 





In answering any adrertiaemi'nt on this page it fl desirable that yon mention Tub Ai.l-Stobt Maoazinb. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 



Every Married Couple 

and nil who contemplate nwrlatre 

Should Own 

this complete Informative hook 

"The Science of a 
New Life" 

By JOHN COWAN, M.D. 

Endorsed and recommended by foreiiKtut I 
medical and rclljsions critic* tlirouirliont I 
the U.S. Unfolds the secrets "f married | 
happiness, bo often revealed too late! So 
iiintk like it to be had at the (trice. \Ve can 
only wrlveti lew of the chapter subjects hero 

as this Lajok if not meant for ciiudreii. 

(AtfCntS wanted*: 

Marriau-c and Its Advantages. Age at 
Which t<> Marry. I.nw iff Choice. [<oyc 
Analyzed. Qualities One Slmiild Avoid in 
Choosing-. Anatomy or KcprndHCtfon. Ama- 

tivriiefs ; < 'out I net ice. ( 'hildl'eli. (icillUft. 

Conception* Pregnancy, t 'tmflnemvnt, 

NurKiinr. How n Happy Married Life is 
Secured. 

Descriptive circular pi vine: full ami com* 
plcte table of. content* mailed FREE. 

J. S. Ogilvie Publishing Co., 




Special Offer 

The regular pric* Is 
£8.00. In order in hi- 
irwiuce tlii* «-rl; into 
a tunny neighborhood* 

HM pnrtxIIOc Wi Will, 

for* limited tlipe t Mn d 
nnc .-e|iy only to ntf 

trader of ill - M*i;a?.kue, 
|Mi-i>pnl<l, upon receipt 
id $"i.tlO. 



Danda 




New York < 1 1 y . 



Leather Key-Purse 

With Your Name Stamped In Gold 

OC r By Mail I With Pocket Af\„ 
t'***- Postpaid | for Pen-Knife ***JC 

It's con veil lent) prevents keys .from rust- 

injr, saves llu* ClOtbiQQ and is a neat case 

for the pocket. Made of strong leather 

with key rlDg and your name handsomely 
embossed In tf«>ld letters on the purse. 
WHte f<»r illustrated Catalog of 
l>anda leather uoimIs .nnl novelties * 
Live- wire AGKXTS Make Bl« Sales. 
DANDA AY MFG. CO.. 82 John St.. New York 



VERNE 

Brilliants, 

Rabies, 
Sapphires 
and 

Pearls 

They rival the costliest and mo* 
precious of Plolieft, mid arc yours at 
Very low ei.st. 

VvrnC Itrillinnt Ileal, pure white. 
The only tieui loetitminre with costly 
diamond. Next to diamond. Intrdmi of 

OeniS. Itrillhinri cimruiil I Jorever. 1'Ut* 

trlass. Stands acid, tile ami lire tCfttt*. Vrrai 

pern— an ewinlslte aitt at modest vtwt. v*r 
tiful as the finest Iturmah. All rvmU Hat t 
acteittfjteqtiy by ««*• ti.ru- n Wide v 

Knsciriatintr— jrciiuine — made by nature, hut controlled by man. 
All si t in .1,1,, mi ,i Kt. Stt/AtffrtM ria-js. /iftiM, ntu'lf, r/ft Kuu|a« 
before buying at ntir rxpriuni Write muh for " Story of the Ktiby " 
and catalogue. 

. YKItM*. GEM CO., iiont. 48,4a UnWen Un«, Srw York City 



Itaynl It .. l» A noble 

*■ Hsppbirv As beau- 
i /tu/ ion, /'lit created 

t'ullurfil IVarl — 



- f VALLEY GEM S ^ 



LOOK LIKE 
DIAMONDS 

Stand acid and iiro diamond test. 
So hard they easily scratch a file and 
will cut fflUftS* Brilliancy pnaran- 
tecd 25 years. Mounted in 14k KOlhlffold 
diamond mountings. See I hem before pny- 
I ti±;. Will semi you any atylo rlilftt pin or stud for 
examination — nil charges prepaid. No money In adxance. 
Money rernmled If not satisfactory. Vfrltu tuday far fruu culdlcg, 
WHITE VALLEY GEM CO., 703 Wulsin Bldg.. Indianapolis 




21 



— i JEWEL " dfc*^ WATCH 

The watch you have always wanted — sent to 
you without yyur (tending any money to us--not oven 
it ■ ill Write if you prefer opeu face or hunt- 
In « case. TddicB* orftentn' aize. and wo will o«nd 
the. twenty-five year, fully Kuarantecd.thin model. 
American made, beautifully erurraved watch for 
treo examination and teat. If you are aatittlied with 
It ond are nun? it equal* u S25.00 irutd wuich, pay 
ua only i3.yoand the watch in yuura. Wrfta today. 

DrexcllewelryCo.pDept,- j<i:>. Chicago 





Best Fiction 

AT HALF PRICE 



We will sell for a limited 
time handsome cloth-bound 
volumes of 



The Puritan Magazine 

and 

Godey's Magazine 



BELOW COST 

Kach volume contains a 
wealth of the best fiction 
and is fullv illustrated. 



The Puritan 

(A Journal for (ientlewomen) 

Volumes Xos. 1-2-3 contain 244 pajjes, 
10x14 inches. 

Volumes Nos. 4-5-6-7-8 contain nearly 700 
pages, li£x9J inches. 



Godey's 



Our stock of these valuable volumes is 
very limited. 

Volumes Xos. 130-131-132-133-135 contain 
672 pages, 6Jx9J inches. 



While the\- last these vol- 
umes may be had at the 
extremely low price of 

65c per volume delivered 
or $8.00 for 13 volumes 



The Frank A.Munsey Company 



175 FIFTH AVENUE 



NEW YORK CITY 



In amwering any advertitement on thU pane it U desirable that ynu mention The Ai.l-Stobt Maoizinb. 



THE AM, STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 



Genuine • 
Blue White 



CHRISTMAS DIAMONDS 8 



On Your 
Own Terms 



r— Hie best if all fcifls. Nothing rmiM plcve wife or 

/rent pmpnid f"f u. Our Ktartllnif low prEeea and 

m|. juu Imy direct from tho Importers, save .ill middle: 



Givi* a T>i.iinnn<l f.-r fliri-tiu:i« Hits y 
increasing in vahioaii-l alwayi worth r\c 
bo a revelation to you. Hj our metlf 

io little amount* fmtn time in time. 

Certified Oiiarantee villi Ovary Di:»iit"it'l— iniarnnlrrini; ila cxart rarat weight, color, quality Hi 
«af<" way tu buy and mivc OHiltUlf— n» (til oiivt'iiioin e — on-l have tha Diamond nt once. 

IVrfertlv tut. Mm* white Diamonds, gleaming. Iparkling, M'iiitillritinR — n«*imine )llgh Qltttll 

Nut a caul i" May until >'"« ba^o examined the Diaiiimid. _ Wa Bond yuM Free mncnlft 
irja*a. Any Diamond here illustrated or rliuwn In cur Beautiful, FHKE, cxotly Art I'ntuiig 
Diamonds and Watche*. Will l»> sent f«r exaininaii"n wltlioutohllgatinn. This offo 
Uopcutu every iionoil pi'rnun — o/n-n tn you. Notelhe wutidcrfut values .-huwu here. 

No. 30 (Platinum) Mr-V»cnntt — No 31 % ct. — No, 32 M ct. 

No. 33 M ct. — No. 34 ?* ct. — Ko. 33 % ct 

No. 36 l -s / w ct. — No. 37 fi-'/aCt. — No. 3i Ja ct. 

Com paro theso prices with, others. 
Terms 204 do*" arid 10.: monlhly; 10 i discount 
Wo iui|H>rt tho rough DtaiM'indc, rut llntu ber* 
Slperreiil ilnly. (tlVC Iho savin 
t<-lay for"iir bin cntal"g au>l >pei i.tl 
offer ut line fatal l)iuui<<lnl> f.<r«-nl 

tdNMifcnuruit|<atalleled bay •back 1 

AH Dhamondli, also Watches, on M 
terms — no money first. Svud 
f>-r C'alal"iT Khowlng lllo 
than lUttO choicest 
Diamond Pieces. 



ntheart belter. Constantly ^ 
r Inn* ttnie lomu will 
a t.r,.uu aud pay 



Write 
Today 




The Walker Edmund Co., ""taB - 

Diamond Importers, Dept. 7 West Madison St., Chicago 



Mailing Cards vs. Classified Advertising 

it would «wt more than 811,-Vrj to koihI n iMMt-rard t<» t iio moro-tliitii-ii-mttlloti I tunics ilmt ppatl " The Munsey 
Matra/.uios " every month. Ad\ eril^crs w lio want to cover the KaiiiP tfniiintl fur Mti are u-ini; this short cut : 



Tho Munsey 

The KflflroaU and C'mroiit Mccliiuiir.- 
The Aruxmy 
The All-Story 
Tho Cavalier (Weekly) 



r.iiuranleiul ClrriihiiliMi Mttf Rat* 

II HI.IH h» 83.00*1 

I.MI.IHHI .7.". 

:uhmhhi i/i.", !- 

1-u.nnn 

I25.UU0 .'17J 



Special 
Coni1>ililttioil Kate 
$i>. 1 .*> 

Less ;i cash 

ilisiMiunt 



1. 155,000 

THE FRANK A. MUNSEY COMPANY, - 



SM3 

175 Fifth Avenue, New York 



M i ii i in inn * Hue*: llaxSitiiiin Vt linos. 
Ten |H-r I'fiii rttiH*ount for run- 
sccutlve Insertion*. Sfi forcawh. 

Write for this Booklet 

"A New Fmit* 1 in Bneiness." timt 

ClveS full ptutu-ulars about tin- el'fff- 

tivfiiesr- <>f eliwi fieri ndverUslnff In 
" Tin* Uunsey Mwintatln***." 



Statement of the ownership, management, etc., of THE 
ALL-STORY MAGAZINE, published monthly at New 
York, N. Y., required by the Act of August 24th, 1912. 

NOTB — This Statement is lo be made in duplicate, both copies to he delivered by the publisher 
to the Postmaster, who will send one copy to the Third Assistant Postmaster-General (Division of 
Classi6cation ), Washington, D. C, and retain the other in the files of the Post Office. 

Editor — T. N. Metcalf, 175 5th Ave.. New York, N. Y. 
Managing Editor — T. X. Metcalf, 175 5th Ave., New York, N. Y. 
Business Manager — Win. T. Deuart, 175 5th Ave., New York, N. Y. 
Publisher — The Frank A. Munsey Company, 1755th Ave., New York, N. Y. 

Owners: (If a corporation, give names and addresses of stockholders holding 1 per 
cent or more of total amount of stock.) 

Frank A. Munsey, 175 Fifth Ave., New York, N. Y. 

Known bondholders, mortgagees, and other security holders, holding 1 per cent or 
more of total amount of bonds, mortgages, or other securities : 

There (ire no bonds, mortgages, or other securities against 
The Frank A. Munsey Company. 

\VM. T. DEWART, Business Manager. 

Sworn to and subscribed before me this 1st day of October, 1913. 

F. G. RUDOLPH, Notary Public, New York County, No. 138. 
(My commission expires March 30, 1914.) 



In anmrrring ony advrtisf merit nn thin page it is 'Icsirablr Hull ynu mention The All-.Stoei Mahazinb. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 



The Next Complete Novel in 

Munsey's Magazine 



=is by= 



George Barr McCutcheon 



Do You 
Remember 
McCutcheon ? 

He's given you some of the 
most entrancing hours in the 
realm of romance. 

Remember " Graustark " ? 
There was action for you. 
and love ! 

And "Castle Craneycrow," 
which carried us across seas 
to the little principality of 
sentiment, where MeCutch- 
eon's masterly pen created 
characters that set a new 
pace in literature. 

Who has not felt the thrill 
of adventure, the charm of 
love-making under romantic 
skies, in "Beverly of Craus- 
tark " ? 

Do you remember the 
strength of "The Hollow 
of Her Hand." a n d the 
rattling good fiction in " A 
Fool and His Money " ? 

Once you feel the spell of 
McCutcheon, only McCutch- 
eon's stories will satisfy your 
craving for rattling good 
tale-telling. 

In - lilack Is White." li.e 
enters a new field — a field in 
which he proves himself the 
master of his subject, the 
deft marshal of word-pic- 
tures which bring before us 
a succession of events in 
which the interest can never 
lag. 



"Black 

Is 
White" 



will be published 
complete—a regular 
$1.50 book—in the 
December Number 



THE best in literature — that is the standard which we 
have set for the series of complete novels now run- 
ning in THE Mi'N'skv. 
Every one of them is a complete book. If you bought 
it of a bookseller, in cloth binding, it would cost you from 
$1.20 to $1.50. In THE MUNSBTf it costs you 15 cents. 

In discussing this new story, Mr. McCutcheon says: 

"The principal woman its Yvonne Brood, and her husband is James 
Brood, whose son is Frederic Brood. Lydia Desmond is the girl 
with whom Frederic is really in love. 

"It may he worthy of nole that the whole book is devoted to the 
interior of Brood's ho'ise. There are but two trifling scenes out- 
side its four walls. I was particular in keeping the action inside 
the house. 

"I opened the book with a tempestuous night indoors, and closed 
it in practically the same atmosphere and setting ; the two old 
men opening and closing the story, with all of the ' meat ' in 
between." 

We shall leave to your imagination what occurs within 
these four walls of Brood's house- the passions that are 
aroused, the sorrow that rests upon its master and the 
mystery that shrouds it all. 

Interesting ? We will guarantee you a yarn of en- 
trancing interest, tense moments, and with a swing to its 
action that keeps the blood moving at no snail's pace. 

Order Your December MUNSEY NOW. 
On Sale November 20. 
15 Cents. ALL NEWS-STANDS. Or direct from 

The Frank A. Munsey Company 

175 Fifth Avenue, New York 



In answering tliis advertisement it is desirable that yon mention The Au.-Story MAGAZINE, 



THE ALL S TORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 




Do You Want 
AJob Like This? 



Do you want a job where you have the "Say so " instead of the "Do so"? 
Do you want a job in which you work with your brains instead of 
your hands ? 

Do you want a job that pays you 
for what you know and have the 
knowledge to back it up ? 

You Can Have It! 



The International Correspondence 
Schools have trained thousands of men who 
today are occupying positions of that kind 
and drawing large salaries. 

This training is acquired in your own 
home in your spare time — at practically 
your own terms, so there is no reason why 
you can't have it. 

No matter where you live or what your 
Schooling is, the I. C. S. can train you. 

To learn all particulars Mark and Mail 
the coupon. Marking the coupon places 
you under no obligation, simply brings you 
information as to how the I. C. S can help 
you win the job you want. 



INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE SCHOOLS 

Box 804, SCR ANTON, PA. 
Kxpl;iin. wiihout any obligation on my pari, how 
I »-:ih qualify for the position before which I mark X. 



SalcHinn iihIi I p 
Electrical Engineer 
Elec. Uirbtiiis supi. 

KI<Tlrlr> 1'ar Kmiriine 

Electric Wl reman 
Telephone Expert 
Architect 

Hiiihliii^Cont raclor 
Architectural Drnfitman 
Siruriurnl Enslaver 
ponereta Cawf rNfftlon 
Mechan. Engineer 

MfThnnlful Prafunmn 
K*rrit«raiion KngUiMr 

Civil Engineer 
Surveyor 

Metal Mining 
Locomoth «■ Clrntin AFnp. 
Stationary Engl neer 

T'liilf Mantifnriiiriiig 

Gaa Enirlnea 



Civil Service 

Hallway Mi.il Clerk 

llooKkeepInc 
8tf npgr aphy ifcTypew rlt tag 
Window Trlnimlng 
Show Card Writing 
Lettering Sc si C n Painting 

Advertising 

CaMnereial llln»trniinr 
1 lid cisi rial I nine 
Commercial Law 

Automotiilr Hunniiir 

Teacher 

I 'ngllsu Branehe* 

(•r>o<1 K n (cl i "li for fctery On 

Agriculture 

Poultry t annine 
I'lnmMne Jk Scum Kiuiair 
Haeet Hetal tturkor 
Nnvif>Alinn Spanith 
I.anetiairei Krf ni-h 

nirmUl (irrman 



Same 



l'rt'sctii Kmnloyer 

Street noil No. 

Pity 



In answer in'/ thin a-hvr tine went it is desirable thai you mention The Am.-Storv Mahazine. 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 



1 




THE 
SMOOTHEST 
TOBACCO 



You'll find Velvet tobacco a 
real wonder smoke. 

It's Kentucky's choicest old 
Burley — only the tender mid- 
dle leaves. They have been 
hung in the warehouse for 2 
years — maturing, mellowing — 
until they have lost all leaf 
harshness, developed a fine, 
good flavor, and attained the 
remarkable smoothness which 
is such a distinct feature of 
"Velvet" tobacco. 

Such high-quality tobacco, 
such a careful process, such 
perfect results, are rare in 
these days of "quick returns." 
Get a tin of Velvet at your 
dealer's. It will delight your 
tobacco sense ! 



lO^TINS 





mm 



5-=5S. 6038-*75. 
Only ' S3|f> and ^% ^ 

*&3£y down x L~J / a month ^ 

DIAMONDS ON CREDIT 

Buying a high grade Diamond is saving money, not 
spending it. The "Lyon Method" makes it easy for you 
to save. Lyon Diamonds are Blue-white and perfect. A 
written Guarantee Certificate with each Diamond. All 
goods sent prepaid for inspection. No security required. 
Write now for Catalog No. 72 10% discount for cash. 

J. M. Lyon & Co., 71 " 73 NE N ^o u R S K tree ' 



6158 $25. 




6188 
W . *1T5. 

Iffe 



«9 



In answering any advertisement on this pngc it it desirable that you mention The All-Stobx Maoazinb, 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 




The Telephone Doors 
of the Nation 



WHEN you lift the Bell Telephone 
receiver from the hook, the doors 
of the nation open for you. 

Wherever you may be, a multitude 
is within reach of your voice. As 
easily as you talk across the room, 
you can send your thoughts and 
words, through the open doors of Bell 
Service, into near-by and far-off states 
and communities. 

At any hour of the day or night, 
you can talk instantly, directly 
with whom you choose, one mile, 
or a hundred, or two thousand 
miles away. 



This is possible because 7,500,000 
telephones, in every part of our 
country, are connected and work to- 
gether in the Bell System to promote 
the interests of the people within 
the community and beyond its limits. 

It is the duty of the Bell System to 
make its service universal, giving to 
everyone the same privilege of talking 
anywhere at any time. 

Because as the facilities for direct 
communication are extended, the 
people of our country are drawn 
closer together, and national welfare 
and contentment are promoted. 



American Telephone and Telegraph Company 

And Associated Companies 

One Policy One System Universal Service 



In aniwering (Ai» aivertinment U U dctiiable that you mention Tbe All Stokt MiOiZiNl, 



THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE— ADVERTISING SECTION. 




The 1914 Timepiece 



The masterpiece qf ■watch manufacture — the Burlington Special — 19 jewels, 
adjusted to the second — adjusted to positions — adjusted to temperatures— 
adjusted to isochronism. Open face or hunting case, ladies' or gentlemen's. 



Special 
Burlington Offer! 

The Superb Burlington Watch 
now at the direct rock- bottom 
price — the same price that even the 
wholesale jeweler must pay — and in 
order to encourage everybody to se- 
cure this watch at once, pay this rock- 
bottom price, either for cash or 82.50 
a month on this great special offer! 
We send the watch on approval, pre- 
paid. ^ ou risk absolutely nothing — you pay 
nothing, not one cent, unless you want this 
exceptional offer after seeing and thoroughly 
inspecting the watch. Read the coupon below. 

New Book on Watches! 



■■\Send Free Coupon 

TTT?p^T^ Learn the inside foctsabout watch prices, 
* **.;nul the ninny superior points of the 

bunk Coupon *^Burllngtou over double-priced pro- 
,. , t-ducls. Ju»t scud the coupon or 

Burlington Watch Co. * % a letter or a postal. Get this 
Iflth St. and Marshall Blvd. offer while it lasts. 

Dept. 1889 Chicago, III. V» Burlington Watch Co. 

Please send mo (without obligation and 10th Struct and 

prepaid) yourfree book on watcneti and ncopy w %^ Marshall Blvd 
Of your SI. QOCcbttllentce, with full explanationof your Chic-i"0 
cash or S2.j0 u month otter on die Burlington Watch.*^ n* ^jjt 



1 089 



Name . 



New Ideas 
In Watch Cases! 

Newest Ideas: Inlay Enamel Monograms, 
Block and Ribbon Monograms, Diamond 
Set, Lodge, French Art, Dragon Designs. • 

Open face or hunting case, ladies' or gentle- 
men's l-<Jand 16 sizes. 

Imagine a beautiful hunting case with your 
own monogram on one side and the emblem 
of your lodge or any other emblem on the other side. 
Our catalog shows complete illustrations. See coupon. 

The Movement! 

In connection with our sweeping direct J 
offer we have selected our finest highest ™ 

grade watch tor a Special "tier direct to the people, i 
Material: The best that mourn can buy. Workmen: | 
World renowned experts in their line. 
The Jewels: 19 finest grade Selected genuine imported I 
rubies and sapphires, absolutely flawless. (It is well 
understood in the railroad business that l» jewels is 
the proper Dumber for maximum efficiency.) 
Factory Fitted and factory tested. Fitted right at 
the factory into the case made for that watch— and 
re-timed after fitting. No looseness or wearing of the 
parts. No rattle or jar. 
Adjustment: Adjusted to temperature ANT) Zso- 
chronism AND positions. The most rigid tests. 

That $1,000.00 Challenge 

mo-.iey stili lies in the bank waiting, wait- 
ing for four years for someone who dares to 
make a competitive test with the Burlington Special, 
liver since we dared to come out with our DIRECT 
OFFER at the rock bottom price, we have been wait- 
ing for someone In cover the challenge money ip. a test 
with the higher priced products. Why don't they ac- 
cept? Look at a Burlington Special, the perfect works 
the exquisite case, consider the rock bottom price, and 
you'll know why our challenge stands unaccepted! 



Addrws— 



J 



In answering this advertisement it is desirable that you mention Tim au.-Stobt Magazine. 



Missing Page: Inside Back Cover 

If you own this magazine, and would 
like to contribute, please email us the 
image (in JPEG format at 300 dpi) to: 



info@pulpmags. org 



Missing Page: Back Cover 

If you own this magazine, and would 
like to contribute, please email us the 
image (in JPEG format at 300 dpi) to: 



info@pulpmags. org